


Thorn Among Roses

by totheendoftheworldortime79



Series: Only for One Night [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Light Bondage, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12769149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totheendoftheworldortime79/pseuds/totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: Sequel to Only for One Night. The Dark One is still at large. As Emma and Killian adjust to parenthood, can they find a way to defeat him and not lose themselves in the process?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! The sequel to Only for One Night. If you haven't read that, please do. This story won't make sense without it. It's one of my first Captain Duckling fics and still a favorite. Yes, this one will have just as much smut. This prologue picks up two months later, the main story six months after little Liam's birth. I hope you like it!

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Emma didn’t look up; she couldn’t take her eyes off the sleeping form in the crib. The moonlight made the jewels in his mobile glitter, crisscrossing his small body in blues and reds and greens. He looked so innocent, so tiny. Unconsciously, she hugged her arms around herself, wondering if she was doing the right thing. How could she leave her helpless little boy?

Killian stepped up behind her, curling his arms around her waist. “Alright, love?”

“He looks so peaceful.”

“Aye, he does.” Killian brushed his lips over her temple, hoping to comfort her. He understood exactly what she was feeling; this felt wrong to him as well. But they had to start letting their boy go, just a little. “I doubt he’ll stay that way.”

Emma’s lips twitched; her pirate always found a way to make her smile. “Well, he _is_ your son.”

Killian leaned his head against hers, forever marveling that this was his life. That he had a wife and son, a family. “He’s ours.” None of this would be possible without the love of the woman in his arms, her faith not only in him but in what they could be together. Together, they created the perfect little life in the crib, their son. It was the greatest joy of his life, to watch and catalogue all the little changes in their boy, to see the pure love on Emma’s face every time she held him.

Emma turned in his arms, burying her nose in his chest. He smelled of sea salt and old wood; it was her second favorite scent in the world. The only thing better was the soft clean scent of her son. “What if he needs me?”

Killian rubbed her back. “We’re right next door, lass. Our son is quite adept at letting us know when he needs you.”

“He needs his papa too.”

“Perhaps not so much yet.” Liam was only eight weeks old; it felt longer. Emma nursed him herself, unwilling to entrust her precious son to a wet nurse, even though it was common for royalty. Killian learned long ago that his Princess was unlike any royalty he’d ever met. Still, he didn’t begrudge her this time with their son. He could spend hours simply watching them. It simply made him more determined to protect them.

Nothing was going to take his family from him. Not again.

Emma shook her head against his chest. “He always knows when Papa is near. You should see the way he perks up when he hears your voice. He loves you so much.”

Killian hugged her tighter, a lump forming in his throat. For someone as gregarious as he, he had no words for how much he loved his son. Or his wife. They were his entire world. “If he wakes, I’ll sing him a lullaby,” he promised gruffly. “But you need your rest, love.”

She knew he was right. She _was_ tired. Her mother had tried to warn her about how exhausting an infant could be, but Emma hadn’t believed her. Liam was a good baby, but her son wasn’t half pirate for nothing. When her baby was upset, the whole castle knew it. Killian was amazing, taking the baby when she was too frazzled to think, singing to him, telling him stories of their adventures. Emma lost count of how many times she fell asleep to the sound of her husband’s voice, so tender and soothing. She couldn’t do this without Killian, of that she was sure. But this night was different. She was just so used to Liam sleeping a few feet away; some irrational part of her felt like she was abandoning him. Even by sleeping in the next room. She had to be strong. Liam would be fine. “Can we leave the door open?”

Killian smiled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. “Will that make you feel better?”

“I know it’s silly, but yeah.”

“Not silly at all, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. “This is new for both of us.”

Emma hugged him in thanks; she couldn’t express how much his patience and acceptance meant to her. Their lives had changed so much since Liam’s birth, but this remained the same. Her pirate just got her.

They both said a soft goodnight to their baby, then walked back to their room, hand in hand. Killian left the adjoining door ajar; he was surprised how much it eased his mind. Like Emma, it was hard for him to let their son out of his sight. Not with the danger he knew lurked out in the world. From their bed, he could just make out the large crib, its mobile shining in the soft light. _Sleep well, little one._

Emma stripped out of her loose dress unaided, slipping on one of Killian’s black linen shirts. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. Automatically, she waved her hand; a merry fire started to burn in the fireplace. She held her hands out, letting the heat wash over her.

Killian watched her from their bed, arrested by her beauty. The fire made her golden hair a riot of red gold curls, his borrowed shirt hovered enticingly at mid-thigh. Unconsciously, he began to harden and he bit back a groan. They hadn’t been together since Emma gave birth; at first, he hardly noticed or cared, so caught up was he in the care of their boy. Between that and his worry about the Dark One, sex was the last thing on his mind. But he missed it, missed _her._ Seeing her like this…he couldn’t help wanting her.

“Coming to bed, Princess?”

Emma turned, brought up short by the sight of her husband. He appeared relaxed, casually lounging against the pillows, the sheet pooled around his trim waist, leaving his bare chest exposed. In a strange way, it felt like she was seeing him for the first time. And just like that first time, his beauty floored her. His hair was just a _bit_ shaggy, fringe hanging in his eyes, those blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. His skin appeared silver, almost ghostly, every muscle chiseled to perfection.

It made her hyperaware of her own body for the first time in weeks. Arousal tingled between her thighs, her heavy breasts ached to be touched. Even so, she was embarrassed; how would be react to her now? She’d given birth, surely that changed things? She still didn’t feel like herself; deep down, she feared she might never feel like the woman Killian fell in love with again.

Killian seemed to sense her hesitation. He peeled back the duvet invitingly, consciously placing himself on his side of the bed. Emma cursed herself silently, quickly crossing the space between the fire and the huge bed they shared. Killian stretched out on his side, facing her but not touching her. He wanted her, but he knew it had to happen in her own time. But he could feel how charged the air was between them; he wondered if she felt it too. Their eyes remained locked together, green on blue, both unable to speak.

Emma watched him, a desperate ache building inside her. She didn’t feel tired anymore. How had she forgotten how handsome her pirate was? How kissable his lips were? How blue his eyes were? Slowly, she inched her hand toward his blunt wrist, her fingers caressing the scarred flesh.

Killian’s breathing hitched, even that slight touch going straight to his groin. He hated himself for it; she was a mother now, fretting over her child not ten minutes ago. They couldn’t do this now.

Emma moved closer, drawn to his warmth, to those eyes. Biting her lip, she reached up to touch his exposed shoulder, her fingers tracing his bicep. She felt him shiver, his eyes filled with an odd kind of desperation she’d never seen before. Finally, she found her voice. “Killian?”

He licked his lips, tentatively reaching for her. His hand settled on her hip, then stopped. “I want to…”

“Want what?” she asked softly, hoping she wasn’t alone in this. She was as nervous as she had been their very first night together, so long ago. Had she truly been that reckless princess that invited a roguish pirate into her bed, begging him to take her virginity?

Her fingers found his, threading them together. He brought them to his lips, pressing an earnest kiss to her knuckles. “I want to kiss you,” he confessed. “But if I do, I might not be able to stop.”

Emma sighed in relief, kissing his knuckles in return. “Perhaps I don’t want you to stop.”

“Emma…we don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

She brought his hand to her breast, moaning softly as he gently rubbed her nipple through the fabric. It felt so good, she wanted to weep. The midwife told her that it was okay for her to resume sexual relations with her husband; it was her fault they hadn’t. She didn’t like the reflection in the mirror. But all that seemed to fade as the man she loved slowly caressed her.

“Please,” she whimpered, arching into his touch. “Gods, I miss you.”

He groaned, suddenly painfully aware of their son in the next room. “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Don’t care.” Emma was shocked at how fast she moved, fusing her lips to his. They were just as soft as she remembered, and just as hungry. They’d shared a myriad of chaste kisses since Liam was born, but this was more. This was the fire she remembered, the fire she longed for without realizing it. Killian pulled her into his arms, rolling so she was on top of him, her legs settling on either side of his hips. Once she was settled, he slowed, threading his fingers into her golden locks as they kissed. He relished rediscovering her, the way she moaned as he nipped at her lips, the way her nails dug into his biceps as she shivered in pleasure. Unconsciously, she began to roll her hips, craving contact.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Killian hissed. He dug his fingers into the soft globe of her arse, her wet flesh stroking his cock deliciously. “So wet for me.”

She hummed, moving faster; his cock felt so good, rigid and thick. “Killian.”

He grunted, wrist and hand reluctantly trying to hold her still. “Darling…Princess…you have to stop.”

Had she read him wrong? Doubt curled her belly as she bit her lip. “Don’t you want me?”

“I do, I do _so much_ , but if you don’t stop, this will be over before I can have you.” It had been so long; their enforced celibacy started even before Emma gave birth. She’d insisted on doing what she could, sucking him off almost daily before Liam was born. But it wasn’t the same. He wanted to make love to her.

“Oh. Sorry?”

He laughed dryly. “Don’t be, my darling.” He kissed her sweetly, but his need for her still ran high. The kiss inevitably deepened, Killian rolled them over and promptly buried his face in her cleavage. Emma gasped, her fingers sinking into his thick hair. Liam fed right before she put him down to sleep, but she could hardly tell. Her breasts were always sensitive, but this was new. Killian palmed one gently even as he dragged the fabric of her borrowed shirt clear of the other with his teeth. He licked the nipple, tongue swirling around it until it puckered. Emma turned to bury her face in the pillow, a powerful bolt of lust shooting through her.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” she breathed.

“Missed you so much, Princess.” He inched his way down her body; Emma held still as he passed over her belly. She’d lost only a fraction of the weight she’d gained during her pregnancy; she hated it. But Killian paid her rounded belly no attention as he pressed her thighs apart.

“Killian, you don’t…” Gods, she hadn’t groomed herself in weeks; she barely had time to bathe properly! Liam needed to be fed frequently; she was so tired that she had to sleep when he slept. It hadn’t seemed important at the time, but now she was red with embarrassment. What if her lover was repulsed?

He cocked an incredulous brow at her. “Emma, if you don’t want…”

“No, I want you, I want this…gods, I feel so silly…”

He kissed the inside of her thigh. “Let me make you feel good, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you so.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes, yes, please.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than his descended on her sex. Emma gasped as he licked her, his tongue working its own magic on her. She fisted the sheet, her hips rising automatically. Killian held her still with his forearm, his fingers parting her sopping folds. Her thatch of golden curls didn’t deter him in the slightest; he could die happily between his wife’s thighs. She tasted like ambrosia, food of the gods; he couldn’t get enough. His nose rubbed her clit as he devoured her; she writhed and thrashed, struggling to stay quiet. She managed to turn her face into the pillow just in time, her orgasm crashing into her, her body trembling hard. She was still shaking as her lover took her, his cock filling her completely. Emma clutched at him, overwhelmed with feeling, her body welcoming him home.

“I love you, I love you,” Killian whispered in her ear as he rocked into her. He tried to move slowly, to relish the feel of her, but it had been so long. Emma locked her ankles behind his back and he grunted. He took her harder, deeper, mouth ravenous on hers. Emma used his shoulder to muffle another scream, climaxing with her lover this time, feeling his cock pulse within her. Killian groaned her name, breathless, shaking in her arms.

Emma felt tears slide down her cheeks; she had no idea why she was crying. She wrapped her arms around him, taking strength from his solid presence.

“Did I hurt you?” Killian asked, worried. She’d never cried before.

“No, I’m okay.”

Killian eased himself off her, not convinced. “Are you sure? We should have waited…”

“I promise, I’m okay.” She rolled onto her side, cupping his scruffy jaw. “I just…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed… _us_. We’ve been so busy with Liam and I love him so much…”

Killian brought her hand to his chest, where she could feel his racing heart as it slowed. “I understand completely, lass. Seeing you with our son brings me so much joy…but I’ve missed us as well. And you did make me promise we wouldn’t lose that.”

Gods, she’d completely forgotten that! “I am so sorry, Killian.”

“What could you possibly be sorry for?”

“I don’t know how to do this,” she confided. “I don’t know how to love you, to be with you like we were before and still…be a mother.”

“Emma, listen to me. You’ve done nothing wrong. And we may never be _exactly_ as we were before.”

Inexplicably, her lip trembled. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Oh love.” He leaned in and kissed her, trying to soothe her fears. “When I say that, I don’t mean it the way you think. I mean that things will be _better_. Every moment I have with you is precious. Precious in ways I never expected. Whether we’re like this, or we’re tending our son…this is the happiest I have ever been in my life. I never expected to be a father, Emma. Now that I am… _thank you_ is all I can say. Thank you for being the strong brave lass I fell in love with, who took a chance on someone like me. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, I promise.”

She hugged him close, so moved by his speech that she started crying again. But these were happy tears. “I promise too,” she said, voice shaking. “I promise, Killian.”

He cradled her face, tenderly kissing away her tears. “We’ll find even more ways to be deliriously happy, Princess. You’ll see.”

She giggled. “I’m going to hold you to that, Captain.”

“I would despair if you didn’t.” He let her use his chest as a pillow, holding her close. Emma tugged the blanket back over them, feeling content for the first time since she laid her son in his crib. The rhythm of her pirate’s heart lulled her to sleep, reminding her of more carefree times.

They were woken by an anguished cry a few hours later; Emma rose sleepily. She rolled from the bed automatically, wrapping her robe around her as she hurried into the nursery. Little Liam was squalling fiercely, his face scrunched up and red. “Shhh, sweetie, Mama’s here, Mama’s here.” She picked him up, quickly checking to see if he was wet. She was learning his cries, but it didn’t hurt to be sure. But even as she did, her son was trying to maneuver his mouth to her breast. “My baby’s hungry?” she asked, loosening her robe as she sat in the rocking chair. “Here you go, love.” Killian’s shirts were low cut enough that she could leave them on while her son nursed. She winced just a little as Liam latched on, her son calming immediately as he suckled. She felt better too, her breasts heavy with milk. “Hmm, you were very hungry, weren’t you, Liam?”

“I think he just missed his mum.”

Emma looked up, surprised to see her husband. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Nonsense.” Killian crossed the room in three strides, plucking one of Liam’s books from the shelf. Since putting the _Jolly_ into winter quarters, they moved most of his brother’s belongings into the castle, the books into his namesake’s nursery. He sat crosslegged at Emma’s feet, producing a candle. “If you would be so kind, darling?”

Emma smiled, waving her free hand to light it. Its glow turned Killian’s blue eyes green; her grin widened. “What are you going to read?”

“Why, a riveting tale of swashbuckling pirates, of course!”

She laughed, making Liam squirm in protest. “Sorry, baby,” she cooed, brushing whisps of his dark hair back. “Papa’s going to read us a story.”

“Too right. You’ll love this one, lad.” He opened the book to the right page and started to read softly. Emma loved him so much for everything he did for their son; he was already a wonderful father. She gently switched Liam to her other breast, using her free hand to comb her fingers through Killian’s hair. He relaxed against her, still reading, pausing occasionally to kiss her knee. Eventually, Emma felt her arm falling asleep; Killian pushed himself up and took the baby from her. “There’s a good lad,” he murmured softly. “Let’s let Mama sleep for a little bit, yeah?” He began to pace slowly, singing Liam’s favorite lullaby, just as he promised. Killian couldn’t stop staring at his little boy’s face, a perfect blending of his and Emma’s. Their little miracle. Once he was sure Liam was asleep, he brushed a soft kiss to his son’s head and carefully placed him back in the crib.

“All is well again.” But when Killian turned, Emma was asleep too. Smiling to himself, he bent to scoop her up, carrying her bridal style back to their bed. If this was the rest of his life, Killian would have no complaints.

 

* * *

 

The image of the pirate and princess swirled in the orb, mocking him. “Sickening, isn’t it?”

Rumple scowled at his jailor. “Well, Regina didn’t get her colorful personality from her sad sack of a father, now did she?”

His jailor waved the image away, furious. “Regina was weak; I was simply trying to guide her. As a mother should.”

Cora stepped into the light, a smile on her face. Rumple refused to recoil; he was the Dark One, the most powerful magical being in existence. Yes, the Queen of Hearts managed to surprise him, but he’d been distracted, sloppy. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Still, he thought he could turn this to his advantage. He always did, given time. “And how did that go, dearie? She died hating you.”

Cora’s mask slipped for just a moment, then it was back. “Something else we have in common, Rumple.”

Rumple giggled and coiled his scaly fingers around the bars that restrained him. He felt an odd surge of pride; everything Cora knew about magic, she learned from him. If anyone was going to briefly gain the advantage over him, it would be his star pupil. “If I recall correctly, we had much more than that.”

Cora laughed, but it sounded wrong, hateful. “We had nothing, Dark One. I have a much more pertinent question. Why are you so interested in this girl? She clearly has something you want.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dearie.”

Cora leaned in close. “I know you, Rumplestiltskin. Better than anyone. We’re the same, you and me. I’ll discover your secret. And when I do, I’ll make you wish you never came to Wonderland.”

Rumple didn’t back down. He was the Dark One, he had nothing to fear. Well, almost nothing. But Cora didn’t need to know that. “We’ll see about that, dearie. We’ll see.”

Cora smiled that cold, cold smile and disappeared in a swath of swirling red smoke.

Rumple sat on the cold stone bench, steepling his fingers in contemplation. While this excursion to Wonderland had momentarily derailed his plans, he could be patient. The so called Savior wasn’t going anywhere. Even better, she’d finally had her brat! Now, she was vulnerable, weak. Once he found the elusive clue to destroying her, he could strike. Cora was an inconvenience, nothing more. He’d take care of her in due time.

Right now, he needed to _think._


	2. Chapter 2

**Six Months Later**

“Where the bloody hell is my hook?” Killian growled in frustration, searching high and low for the appendage. He’d taken it off the night before for sleeping, as he usually did, and now it was nowhere to be found.

“Here, Your Highness!”

Killian fought not to roll his eyes as the too eager boy came rushing up with his brace. He hated being referred to as “Your Highness;” even after more than a year of marriage to a princess, he couldn’t think of himself as a prince. He was a captain, a pirate, but none of the palace staff cared about that. To them he was Emma’s husband, father of the future king of Misthaven.

It was driving him crazy.

Ever since Liam’s birth, his in laws kept inserting servants into the lives. Emma grew up with servants all her life, but she was in no way spoiled. If anything, _Killian_ took pleasure in spoiling her far more than any number of servants could. He always tried to do little things for her: leave her flowers if they were going to spend the day apart, massage her feet while Liam nursed, watch over their son while she napped. Still, Greta, her lady maid, helped tremendously. Killian didn’t like or need a valet, but his mother in law had other ideas.

This was the sixth one in as many months and Killian didn’t see this one lasting very long. He just didn’t know what to _do_ with the poor lads Snow sent to “help” him. Killian was used to fending for himself. He worked hard to adapt to the loss of his hand; he resented the very idea that he needed “help.” He didn’t think it wise to offend his mother in law, however.

He wrinkled his nose as he took the brace back. “Did you…oil this, boy?”

The young man looked uncomfortable. “Was that wrong, Your Highness?”

Killian took a deep breath; he really was just a lad. “It’s Captain Jones, lad. I’m not a bloody prince. And if I needed my hook tended to, I would have done it myself. It’s not a toy.”

“Yes, sir. My apologies, sir.”

“It’s fine. Just…run along. I’m sure you have some duties to attend to?”

“Yes, sir!”

Killian ran his hand through his hair after the lad retreated. He hoped he wasn’t too hard on him. Killian himself had once been a young sailor learning the ropes. He simply didn’t _need_ a valet to tend to his every whim. All Killian needed were his wife and son and he was content.

Speaking of, he missed his wife. Emma rose early to feed little Liam then she disappeared. She was doing that more and more often over the last few weeks; it was starting to worry him. She _never_ neglected their son; indeed, she spent hours with him, feeding him, rocking him, taking him for long walks in the palace gardens.  But when she wasn’t with Liam, she seemed to be taking time for herself. Killian missed her, missed the closeness they shared.

He heard Liam stirring in his crib; Killian hurried to check on him. Liam, clearly awake from his nap, had rolled onto his belly and appeared to be reaching for his little stuffed bear. Killian smiled; already so smart, his boy. “This what you’re looking for, lad?” he said softly, nudging the bear into his son’s grabbing hands. Liam giggled in delight, his little feet kicking as he hugged the toy. He looked up at Killian with huge eyes, almost in awe. “Papa’s here, little love. Do you wanna get up? Up?”

Liam giggled again; he took that as a good sign. Killian scooped his son up one handed, much more confident than he had been just a few months ago. At first, he was terrified of holding him, afraid that he’d hurt him somehow. Especially with his hook. But Emma helped him get over his fear, showing him how to hold their son and interact with him. A natural, she’d called him. He didn’t feel like it, but the adoration in his son’s eyes helped his fears fade away.

The door to the nursery opened, Greta stepped through it. “Everything alright, Captain?”

Killian held Liam tighter against his chest. “Aye, we’re fine. Lad’s just up from his nap.”

She curtsied briefly, but Killian called her back. “Yes?”

“Do you know where the princess is? I expect we’ll need her soon.”

“I believe she went down to the training yard; I’ll let her know the prince is awake.”

“Thank you, Greta.” Killian frowned as the door closed behind her. What was Emma doing in the training yard? Worse, why did she feel like she couldn’t tell him about it?

* * *

 

Emma spun on her heel, the sword singing as she swung hard. She ducked and slashed, raising her arm to stab at her target. The blade sank into the cloth and straw filled dummy with a satisfying thunk. Breathing hard, she yanked it free, intending to go again. She didn’t know how long she’d been training, but it was long enough for her muscles to be pleasantly sore. Still, she drove herself to do more, to push herself.

Memories of her adventures with Killian flooded her as she trained, raiding ships, fighting by his side, the passion that followed. Killian loved watching her fight; she missed that fire in his eyes as he took her against the door of their cabin. She felt so guilty about how much she missed the way they used to be, because she _loved_ her little boy _so much._ She wouldn’t trade him for anything. She loved seeing Killian with their son, the awe in his eyes. She loved their little family, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

She hated that she felt that way.

“Princess? Highness?”

Emma lowered her weapon, panting as Greta stepped out of the shadows. “What’s wrong, Greta?”

“The Prince is awake, Highness. The Captain asked me to come tell you.”

Emma nodded. “Thank you, Greta.”

“Uh, Highness?”

“Yes?”

“Forgive my presumption, but the Captain seemed surprised when I told him where you were. Was I not supposed to?”

Emma frowned. “No, it’s fine. I just forgot.”

“Okay.” Greta curtsied and left, leaving Emma alone. She bit her lip, not sure what to think. She’d hadn’t meant for her training to be a secret, but it was true that she hadn’t told Killian about it. She didn’t know how. She wasn’t sure he wouldn’t laugh at her. She did feel silly at times. But then she looked in the mirror and found some flaw in her appearance. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake, no matter how hard she tried. She didn’t want to feel this way, but she didn’t know how to make it stop.

Liam would surely need her soon, so she sheathed her sword and returned it to the armory. She splashed some water on her face, trying to cool off before returning to their suite. Knowing the castle as she did, she didn’t pass many people on her way back. She liked being around people less and less lately, not that she was ever a social butterfly. Emma had always disliked the traditional princess activities like balls. She was her father’s daughter after all. It was only recently that she appreciated some of the things her mother loved. Balls and court were much more fun with her pirate at her side.

Liam was just starting to fuss when she entered the nursery. Killian’s face lit up in relief. “See, lad? Mama’s here.”

“Is he hungry?”

“Aye, famished. He keeps pawing at my shirt.”

She smiled, as she caressed her son’s cheek. “Poor baby. Did you enjoy time with Papa?”

Liam calmed a little, settling in his father’s arms. “I missed you too, Princess.”

She blushed, standing up on her toes to kiss him. He slipped his hooked arm around her waist, holding her close, enjoying the feel of his family in his arms. “I missed my boys. Sorry I worried you.”

He kissed her hair. “I’d love to train with you, darling. All you need do is ask.”

She squeezed his waist. “I’d like that.”

Liam had enough of the family moment, as he started to fuss again. Emma hurriedly shrugged out of her waistcoat and peeled open her shirt before taking the baby from her husband. She tenderly stroked her son’s head as he latched on to her breast, enthusiastically nursing. “There you go, love.”

She moved to the rocking chair; Killian slid it over to the window. The _Jolly Roger_ lay in her berth, the setting sun glittering on the bay. It was a beautiful sight, but not as beautiful as his lovely wife. He sat in the window seat, slipping his hand into hers. “The weather’s improving,” he said quietly.

“It is.”

“I was thinking we might take her out, just a little way into the bay. Do you think Liam would enjoy it?”

She smiled. “He’s his father’s son,” she said proudly. “I think he’d love it.”

“He’s also a future king.”

Emma bit her lip. She didn’t like to think about that. She didn’t like to think about herself as a future queen. She just wanted to be Emma, a wife, a mother. She had all this responsibility, as a princess, as heir, as the _Savior._ Instinctively, she held Liam closer, fear slithering down her spine. Months had passed since his birth, yet there was no sign of the Dark One. He’d _taunted_ Emma about how badly he wanted her power, how he would stop at nothing to take it from her. She didn’t even want it; it put her loved ones in danger. She felt trapped, by power she didn’t want, responsibility didn’t think she was worthy of. What kind of future did that mean for her son?

“I will keep you both safe, love,” Killian said quietly, sensing her tension. “I swear it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to.”

He leaned over, his lips brushing her temple. “We wouldn’t want things to be boring, now would we?”

She squeezed his fingers. “I’m scared, Killian.”

“I am too, love.” It often kept him up at night, visions of that demon coming after his loved ones. The more time that passed with no word or sighting of the Dark One, the more worried he became. He felt helpless, an emotion he hated. “But I don’t want us to be prisoners.” They hadn’t truly left the castle confines since Liam was born; it hadn’t felt like an issue during the heart of winter. Now that spring was upon them, he wanted his son to experience the outside world.

“I don’t either.”

“Perhaps you could talk to Tinkerbelle. She might have some ideas about protecting the _Jolly.”_

She smiled. “Yeah.”

Once Liam finished nursing, she rocked him to sleep. It didn’t take long; he usually slept on a full belly. Killian left her to bathe while he saw to their dinner. They usually took their meals with her parents, but Killian sensed Emma needed some away from her royal duties. He was worried about her, even aside from the lingering danger that existed.

Emma was thankful Killian left her alone; she missed their shared baths, but she just wasn’t ready for it. Her naked body felt ugly to her, flabby and fat, stretch marks crisscrossed her belly. It was dark when he touched her now, much to her relief. It was one of the reasons she trained until she was exhausted, trying to shed the last of the baby weight, to recapture the woman her husband adored. Killian never made her feel anything less than desirable, but for how long?

She wrapped her soft wool robe around her, moving into the sitting room to light the fire. Emma waved her hand but, at first, nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again. This time, one of the empty vases shattered. What the hell? She managed to fix the broken vase, but she had no idea why it shattered in the first place. She stared at her hands for several long minutes, confused and a little frightened. Her magic had never behaved like this before. Was there something wrong with her? Cautiously, she tried a third time. The fire lit almost instantly, perhaps a little higher than usual, but still, it was lit. Feeling slightly better, she settled in to wait for her husband to return.

When he did, he brought a veritable feast with him; plates and bowls piled high with all her favorite things. “What’s the occasion?”

“You know how much I love to spoil you, Princess.”

“I still don’t know what you get out of it,” she replied, moving over to make room for him.

“Your smile is reward enough, my love.” He cupped her cheek, gently drawing her lips to his. She melted into him, her fingers curling in his shirt. He stroked the seam of her lips and she opened, moaning softly as they kissed. “So sweet.”

“I don’t know if I’m hungry for food now,” she teased. Her insecurities about herself didn’t make her want him any less. If anything, it fueled her need for him. For those wonderful brief moments, he could make her feel like herself again.

“That so?” He eased her into his lap, a salacious smirk on his lips. Emma leaned in to kiss it off, humming as his hand and hook slid under her robe. The fire danced over his skin, highlighted his darkening eyes. His lips slid over her jaw, down her throat. “Just what are you hungry for, my princess?”

Her fingers tugged on the chain of his necklace, urging him closer. “Pirate,” she murmured.

He groaned, fingers digging into the soft globe of her ass. “I shall endeavor to give my princess all she desires.” They made out lazily, Emma working the buttons on his red waistcoat so she could peel it off. But the moment he opened her robe, she froze. “Darling?”

She smiled, hoping he didn’t see the fear in her eyes. “I’ve got an idea.”

He tilted his head. “I’m listening.”

She leaned in to whisper it in his ear, smiling in relief when he groaned his approval. Abruptly, he stood, pausing long enough for her to wrap herself securely around his tall frame. Emma nibbled on his neck as he marched them to the bedroom, checking to make sure the door was closed. Emma rewrapped the belt of her robe around her waist when her lover deposited her on the bed, then leaned back to watch him strip. Wetness flooded her core as his skin was exposed, her nipples tingled recalling how good his chest hair felt against them. Emma wet her lips as she reached down to touch herself, her fingers gliding easily over her swollen flesh.

Killian groaned, hastily yanking at the laces of his pants. He loved watching his princess pleasure herself. “Bloody hell, lass.”

Emma swallowed heavily, unable to tear her eyes away from his erect cock. She thought it was beautiful, long and thick, the perfect union of velvet and steel. She pushed herself up, beckoning him to come stand between her splayed thighs.

Killian moaned loudly as her wet pink tongue darted out to caress him, lapping lazily along the length of his shaft. He anchored his hand in her damp hair, enjoying the loving way she worked him over. She knew his body well now, but he never tired of how amazing this felt. Loving Emma was everything to him.

Need burned between her thighs; she released him with a pop. “Lay down for me, Captain.”

“As you wish.” He kicked his pants free then climbed into the center of their bed. His breathing grew shallow as she produced a scarf from her wardrobe, blue silk. She tied it expertly around his eyes, waving her hand to ensure his eyes were completely covered. A quick snap of her fingers secured him to the bed with silk ropes, each extremity bound to one of the four posters. His heart raced, his cock pulsed with need. This was the sort of play he’d missed; Emma’s magic bound him, making things more exciting. He _couldn’t_ get free, even if he wished it. And he certainly did not wish it. He wanted to be her plaything; she was a princess after all. _His_ princess.

With Killian bound and sightless, she felt comfortable enough to undress. She allowed the wool to fall to the floor, then joined her lover in the huge bed. She started slow, skimming her hands over his nude form, relishing the way his muscles jumped under her fingertips. He was stunning, lean but so strong, bound and at her mercy. “My beautiful pirate.”

Killian moaned as she touched him, instinctively tugging on his bonds. They brought him up short, another jolt of lust shooting through him. “Fuck, darling.”

“Soon enough.” She kissed his lips sweetly, raking her nails down his chest. He moaned again; shuddering as her tongue lapped at his nipples. Every kiss, every caress, everything was intensified. He longed to see her, to touch her and bring her pleasure, but he burned for her more. For anything she was willing to give him.

“Emma, fucking hell, _Emma.”_

She smacked the sharp V of his hip. “I am a princess, pirate. You will refer to me in the proper manner.”

“Yes, ma’am. Princess.” Her slap excited him; he adored this side of his love.

She smiled, gently cupping his balls. Killian moaned as she fondled them, his muscles flexing as he struggled. She added her mouth to the mix, licking him from root to tip. She could worship his cock for hours.

Killian bit his lip, struggling under her assault. She sucked his cock enthusiastically, her fingers teasing the very sensitive spot between his legs. The pressure built higher and higher at the base of his spine until he was begging, _pleading_ with her to stop. She ignored him, bringing to the very _edge_ of orgasm before backing off. He panted hard, heart pounding in his chest like he’d run for miles. Emma tenderly kissed the corner of his lips; Killian turned his head to kiss her properly. She responded with joy, straddling his hips, moaning as their skin brushed. “Need you,” she murmured between kisses. “Fuck, I’m so wet.”

“Let me pleasure you, Princess. Please.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.” She pushed herself up, holding onto the headboard to position her hips over his eager mouth. Killian responded without being told, licking her as best he could from his prone position. He remembered vividly the first time he did this, how wanton his lover could be. She was his prefect match, a woman as passionate as he and not afraid to indulge herself. He’d unlocked that woman within her; he would be forever thankful that she chose him.

Emma writhed above him, _grinding_ against his mouth, chasing her pleasure. He knew exactly how to make her crazy, the swirls and dips of his tongue winding her up like a toy. She whimpered and whined, pressure mounting exquisitely; she never wanted it to end. “More,” she demanded. “Fuck.”

Killian found her clit, lapping at it, her thighs trembling around his head. She was close, he could sense it. He knew her body better than his own. Her climax was long and loud; Emma clapped her hand over her mouth at the last second to muffle her scream of pleasure. Killian continued to lick her, lapping at every drop of her release. She tasted divine.

Emma sagged against the headboard, spent yet craving more. She needed to feel him inside her, the pirate ravishing the princess. Slowly, still panting for air, she moved back down to his hips, dragging her wet folds over his hard shaft. Killian whined, bucking under her. “Princess, love, _please_ ,” he moaned.

She braced her hands on his chest, grinding herself over him. “You’re going to feel so good inside me, pirate,” she gasped.

“Yes, yes, _please_ ,” he begged, past caring how needy he sounded. “Let me have you, Princess.”

“Leave the blindfold on,” she warned, snapping her fingers again. His bonds dissolved in little clouds of white smoke; Emma lined him up with her sex and sank down, making them both moan. Killian grabbed her hip, arching as she rode him. He could picture her above him, naked and beautiful as she rode his cock. “Gods yes.” She leaned back, hands braced on the bed, allowing her to bounce faster and harder on his thick cock. “Yes, yes.”

The sound of their smacking skin, the feel of her wet walls surrounding him, her little mewls of pleasure, it all drove him insane with lust. He forced himself up, arms wrapping around her waist as she bounced eagerly in his lap. “So good, Princess,” he bit out. “So fucking good.”

She hissed, one hand reaching for him. She caught him by the neck, an anchor as she leaned in to fuse her mouth to his. They kissed wetly, the metal of his hook sliding down her spine, making her shiver. “Make me come, pirate. Fuck.”

He held her close, his hook against her ass, his fingers blindly reaching for her clit. Emma whined when he found it, the quick hard strokes making her come in seconds. She bit her lip through her climax, hips riding her lover mindlessly, dragging out her pleasure. Killian grunted as he held her, not willing to give in yet. “Not through with you, Princess,” he growled. “Tell me you need more.”

“Yes, yes,” she panted, kissing him deeply. He was still rock hard inside her; she needed to know she could still make him feel this way, mad with need.

It was harder without his sight, but Killian lifted her off him, maneuvering her onto her hands and knees. Emma whined with impatience, spreading her knees for him. A couple of false starts then he was there, pressing thickly inside her, stretching her. She wondered if he felt a difference when he took her now, but never had the courage to ask. The midwife had taught her some techniques to regain some of what she’d lost when Emma asked, for which Emma was thankful. She wanted her lover to want her as much as she did him.

Killian lightly gripped her hips, rocking into her almost lazily. She felt incredible, wet and hot; they fit together perfectly. He bent over her, hips snapping harder into hers, relishing her needy moans. “My princess,” he growled. “Mine.”

She gasped, his cock hitting her sweet spot. “Yes, yes, yours,” she confirmed. “Always. Fuck, _harder!”_

Killian snarled, covering her body with his as he pistoned into her. She fisted the sheets as she climaxed _again_ , screaming into the mattress. Killian buried his face in her neck as he followed almost immediately, the dam bursting as he emptied himself within her warm wet depths. It stole his breath, his body trembling hard. No one else could make him feel so incredible, only his Emma.

“I love you,” he whispered into her skin. “I love you so bloody much.”

Emotion welled up inside her; she struggled not to cry. Killian was everything to her; her lover, her soulmate, her True Love, the father of her child. She couldn’t lose him.

“Darling?” She’d gone still under him; he was worried.

“I love you too,” she said, the emotion evident in her words.

Killian eased himself off her, yanking off his blindfold and gathering her in his arms. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me.”

She sniffed. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he chided gently. “You’re trembling.”

“I did enjoy three pretty amazing orgasms just now.”

But he wasn’t going to be distracted. “As pleased as that makes me, I don’t think that’s what’s ailing you, my love.”

She decided to tell him a half truth. “We’re so happy, Killian. I’m terrified it’s all going to go away. That I’ll lose you. Or Liam.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I won’t let that happen, Emma. We’ve come too far to lose our happy ending.”

“Is that what we are? A happy ending?”

He smiled at her, gently wiping away the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Or a happy beginning. I’m looking forward to enjoying many more years with you.”

She smiled back. “I want that too. So much.”

“Then we’ll have it. I meant forever when I married you, love. No matter what challenges we face.”

Emma surged up and kissed him, unable to express what his words meant to her. She hoped this feeling would last. She was so tired of fear and doubt.

 

* * *

 

“Princess, Princess! The Queen sent me to fetch you!”

Emma cooed softly to her squirming son before acknowledging her maid. “Yes, Greta? What is it?”

“It’s the Council meeting,” she relied, slightly breathless. “Your presence is required, most urgently!”

“I don’t know what’s going to be so different from all the other Council meetings,” she grumbled. She’d attended dozens since the birth of her son; her parents strongly implied it was her duty now that she’d settled down as a wife and mother. She resented it, missing the freedom she had as Killian’s partner on the _Jolly Roger._ A pirate’s life wasn’t glamorous or easy; that was what she loved most about it. They could sail anywhere they wished, anytime they wished. They were their own master and mistress, beholden to no one. That was the life she wanted.

Greta looked uncomfortable. “The Captain was looking for you as well.”

That made her feel better. “Very well. I’ll be along shortly.”

“Shall I watch over the Prince?”

“No, I’ll take him with me.” Let those Councilors see what consumed her days. She knew some of them thought it scandalous that she suckled her baby herself rather than employ a wet nurse. Emma saw no reason not to. Her breasts were full to bursting; it was the best nourishment for her son, everyone said so. She didn’t want to waste a moment with him.

Liam fussed and kicked as she wrapped him up in a soft blanket; she hummed one of Killian’s favorite sea shanties to soothe him. Liam smiled at her, happy and content by the time she picked him up. “Let go see what Grandmama and Grandpapa want to talk about this week,” she said to her son. “I’ll bet it’s boring.”

Liam was fascinated by his rattle and not paying her the slightest bit of attention. She laughed as she strode down the corridors; everyone she passed bowed or curtsied before the two heirs to the throne. Emma acknowledged everyone she met, appreciative yet unable to shake the feeling of being stifled. A princess wasn’t _all_ that she was; it felt like everyone had forgotten that.

Most of the Councilors were already there when she entered the chamber; Killian greeted her with a warm smile. “There you are, darling.” He kissed her in full view of everyone, unashamed of his love for her. He knew there were Councilors who didn’t approve of his marriage to the Crown Princess, even after all this time. It didn’t matter; their marriage had been celebrated in front of the whole kingdom. To forsake him would be to forsake the legitimacy of his son and incur Emma’s wrath. Since her magic was revealed, many of them remained a little fearful of her, which was patently ridiculous. He knew of no one with a more kind and generous heart than his Emma. “And hello to you, little lad.” He kissed his son’s head, chuckling as the boy squirmed.

“Wave to Papa,” Emma said, shaking Liam gently. “I’m sure he missed you.”

“I did, little one. But I had to see to our accommodations on board the _Jolly_.”

“How is it going?”

“It’ll be a tight fit. But it should do for an afternoon.”

Emma squeezed her husband’s hand. She knew how much he missed sailing. She missed it fiercely and she’d only been a pirate for a few months. Killian had been a sailor virtually his entire life. He gave up so much to be with her; she never wanted him to regret it. Especially when she missed their old life too.

“I can’t wait,” she said.

He slipped his arm around his wife’s waist, comforted by her presence. “Smee is enjoying getting the old girl ship shape again, so there’s that.”

“The _Jolly’s_ our home,” Emma replied. “I don’t want us to lose that.”

“I don’t either.” They fell in love on the _Jolly Roger_ , conceived their precious son there. He’d be damned if he allowed the ruddy Dark One to take their home from them.

A sharp rap on the mahogany table got their attention. “I’d like to call this meeting to order,” David announced. “If everyone could take their seats?”

Killian pulled out Emma’s seat for her; she sat to her mother’s left. Snow smiled happily at her grandson and her daughter. “How’s my grandson today?”

“Happy, I think,” Emma replied, smiling at her son. He giggled and waved at his grandmother. Liam adored his grandparents; they, in turn, showered him with love and gifts. Her father sometimes made jokes about being too young to be a grandparent, but Emma knew he secretly loved having a little one around the castle again.

“Of course he’s happy. Look at his mother.” Snow was so proud of her daughter; Emma had matured so much since becoming a mother herself. But it was her child’s obvious happiness that made her the proudest. Emma sought out her own path and found True Love; that was all Snow wanted.

“I’ll put him down for a nap after the meeting. I need to talk to Tinkerbelle.”

“What for?”

“We want to take Liam out on the _Jolly_ ,” Emma explained. “He can’t stay in the castle forever.”

Snow bit her lip. “Are you sure that’s wise? Rumplestiltskin is still out there.”

“I’m not a prisoner, Mama.”

“No, I want you to be safe. The castle’s been warded…”

“It’s a prison,” Emma countered shortly. “Just like it was before I ran away.”

Snow looked askance at her daughter, hurt. “Is that how you felt?”

She sighed. “A little,” she admitted. “I wanted to see the world. I still do.”

“Oh honey. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Emma didn’t get to reply, especially to Killian’s questioning look, as her father called the meeting to order. Emma didn’t pay much attention; Councilors giving reports about the kingdom’s finances and harvest yields didn’t hold much interest for her. It wasn’t until the subject of the Dark One came up that she looked up.

“The next meeting of the Grand Alliance is in two weeks,” her father’s secretary announced. “Representatives from the farthest kingdoms have already begun to arrive.”

“Yes, I ran into the fellow from Arendelle in the stables,” David said. “How are the preparations coming?”

But Emma interrupted. “Kristoff? What about Anna? Or Queen Elsa?”

David frowned. “I’m afraid Kristoff is the only one who could make it. Seems Arendelle is in the middle of some sort of dispute with Weselton. His wife felt like she needed to stay with her sister.”

Emma’s heart sank. This was only the third meeting of the so called Grand Alliance; Queen Elsa had missed them all. But Anna and Kristoff were becoming good friends to Emma and Killian, having made their acquaintance just before their second wedding. While she liked Anna, it was Queen Elsa that she truly wanted to meet. Elsa was like Emma, someone born with magic. While their powers seemed to be very different based on Anna’s descriptions, Emma thought they could help each other. It would be nice to talk to someone who could understand how Emma felt about her powers.

She didn’t pay much more attention to the meeting until Killian brought up their intention to go sailing. Much to her surprise, it caused an uproar. David was the first to object, for the same reason Snow had done. “It’s not safe,” he said firmly. “I won’t let you put my daughter and grandson in danger.”

“What about me, mate? Or am I just the stud?”

Emma winced; David flushed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Do you honestly believe I would put my wife and son in danger, Your _Majesty?”_

“Of course not, but…”

Someone else spoke up, the Duke of Sandorne. “It’s the job of this Council to keep the heir to the throne safe, Your Highness.”

“It’s _Captain Jones_ , mate,” Killian growled. “And your heir is _my_ son. And _my_ wife. We will not be prisoners to that bloody demon.”

“Have you all forgotten that I have magic?” Emma interjected. “I can ward the _Jolly_ just as well as the castle.” At least, she thought she could. She remembered how wrong lighting the fire had gone, just a few days ago. Strange things were happening more and more when she used her magic and she didn’t know why. Another reason she needed to speak to Tinkerbelle.

“We don’t even know if the Dark One is still a threat,” someone else countered. “No one has seen him in months.”

“He’s out there,” Killian said flatly. “He won’t give up; he’s too fixated on Emma.”

“All the more reason to stay in the castle,” Sandorne argued. “At least until after the Grand Alliance meets again.”

“To do what?” Killian snapped. “All they bloody do is talk. We need to be _hunting_ him.”

“Are you volunteering, Captain?”

Everyone stared, stunned. Until now, no one had dared to speak to Killian with anything but courtesy, whether out of fear or respect, Emma didn’t know. He was her husband; he might have been a commoner, a pirate, but Emma’s own father was a shepherd. What did that matter?

“My place is with my family,” he bit out, but Emma saw what it cost him. Her love was a man of action; he despised sitting around and waiting. But he loved her and Liam too much to abandon them. She reached under the table and squeezed his hand, hoping to comfort him. His jaw was clenched tight, his blue eyes furious and frustrated.

Sandorne stood. He was older than Emma but younger than her parents. He’d once entertained a notion of marrying Emma himself, but she’d never cared for him. Besides, until she ran away, everyone expected her to marry a prince. He held his head high as he spoke; he clearly thought of himself as some sort of leader for a faction of the Council. Emma saw others looking to him. “I think we all know the best way to keep the Princess safe.”

“And that is?” she demanded.

“Forgive me, Your Highness, but it’s quite obvious. Your late pregnancy protected you from the Dark One’s machinations. If you were to get pregnant again…we can presume you would be safe once more. It would also give the kingdom another heir, in case—godsforbid—something should happen to you or the Prince.”

Fury and embarrassment like she’d never felt flowed through her. Her face grew warm; Liam squirmed in protest as she tightened her hold on him. She handed her son to her mother, lest she do something rash. Power tingled under her fingertips; it would be too easy to turn the man into some disgusting being.

Emma stood, nearly quivering with fury. “I’m sorry, my lord. Perhaps I misheard you. Did you just presume to tell me what to do with _my_ body? Am I just some sort of royal broodmare to you?”

Sandorne looked a little abashed, but he didn’t back down. “I am merely stating a fact, Your Highness. Until we know more about what the Dark One wants with you, I feel it is my sworn duty to keep the heir to the throne safe.”

Hot tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. Instead, she gave the round table a magical shove at the despicable duke and stormed off. It wasn’t until she reached the safety of her suite that she gave into the storm in heart.

Killian’s first instinct was to run the man through for the way he spoke to Emma. He had _no_ right. Emma was no one’s property, certainly not this good for nothing kingdom’s. Gods, he just wanted to take her away from here. But he couldn’t let his temper get the better of him. Emma needed him. He spoke quickly to Snow, who agreed to keep Liam for the time being. Then Killian stalked over to the Duke, who was trying to pick himself up off the floor. Grabbing him roughly by the arm, Killian hauled him up and cinched his arm behind the man’s back, Killian’s hook pointed at his throat. “If you _ever_ speak to my wife like that again, you will answer to me. On the dueling ground. Is that understood?”

Sandorne swallowed, all too aware of the hook point digging into his flesh. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” With that, Killian followed Emma out of the chamber. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her in such a state. He ran to their room, praying that she would seek safety there. He always found the ocean view soothing.

He came up short when he opened the door, shocked.

The room looked like it had been _wrecked._ Furniture upended or broken, books littered the floor, pages torn out, paintings ripped and crooked, the fireplace burning higher than he’d ever seen, the tall flames reflected in his wife’s anguished eyes. “Emma?”

She didn’t move or give any other sign that she’d heard him. Tears coursed down her cheeks, her gown was ripped. His heart shattered for her. “Emma?” he tried again, stepping closer. The door snapped shut behind him; he wasn’t afraid. No matter how upset she was, she would never hurt him. “Darling, it’s Killian.”

Emma heard him; she just couldn’t form words. She was ashamed of the chaos around her, her loss of control. It was everything she feared come to life. She couldn’t bear to look at Killian, terrified that he would see her as a monster. It wasn’t until he touched her that she broke. Emma threw herself into her husband’s arms, sobbing.

Killian held her as she cried, not knowing what else to do. He’d expected her to be furious, angry, not upset like this. She had every right to be angry; that wanker had been unbelievably disrespectful. He was at loss to explain her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, tears staining his waistcoat. “I’m so sorry.”

He tightened his grip on her, stroking her back soothingly. “What are you sorry about, my darling? I don’t understand.”

“Did I hurt anyone?”

“Of course not. Sandorne took a nasty tumble, but that wanker deserved it. I sorted him out.”

That got her attention. “You did?”

“No one speaks to my wife that way, certainly not some damned noble.”

“Where’s Liam?” she asked, panicked.

“He’s with your mother,” he soothed. “She’s agreed to keep him for the afternoon.”

“But what if he needs fed or changed…”

“We’ll worry about that later. Right now, I’m worried about you, love.” He kissed her hairline. “If I knew you wanted to redecorate, sweetheart, I would have brought some more things from the ship.”

Emma laughed through her tears. “I didn’t mean to. I lost control.”

“No real harm done. I never liked that couch anyway.”

“We’ve enjoyed some good times on that couch.”

“Aye, but I think we can do better.” He smiled and waggled his brows at her. To his relief, she laughed again. “Come, we’ll clean up later.” He kept his arm around her as he led them to the bedroom. Emma didn’t protest as he gently stripped her down to her shift; it was torn too.

“Can I have one of your shirts?”

“Certainly.” He grabbed one from the wardrobe, not missing the way she tried to cover herself as she changed. Emma had never been ashamed of her nudity before. In fact, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time they slept together nude. It was all they did before the birth, enjoying the feel of each other’s skin. While Emma was pregnant, Killian liked that he could stroke her belly while she slept.

Emma splashed water on her face from the basin; she probably looked terrible. She kept the curtain drawn on their wall length mirror, so she couldn’t see herself. Right now, she didn’t want to.

Killian threw his heavy coat into the nearby chair and laid his boots aside. After a moment’s thought, he took off his waistcoat, shirt and brace as well before getting into bed with Emma. Already, she was huddled under the covers, looking sad and ashamed. “May I?”

She moved gratefully into his arms. They were silent for a long time, just soaking in each other. At length, Emma spoke. “You know what upsets me the most?”

“No, but I’d love to hear it.”

“He’s not wrong. Sandorne. Being pregnant would keep me safe.”

Killian shook his head. “To hell with him, love.”

“Look at it logically, Killian.”

“I am. You’re talking about keeping you pregnant for the foreseeable future. _Forever.”_

“So? Don’t you want more children? Or do you just not want _me?”_

Killian frowned. “What sort of daft notion is that, love? I always want you. I will always want you.”

“You didn’t answer the other question.”

Killian sat up, forcing her to look at him. “Emma, listen to me. In the future, I would love to have more children. But I have a feeling you want that to be several _years_ in the future, not tomorrow.”

Her lip trembled. “Is that so wrong of me? Am I selfish?”

He took her hands in his. “Emma, of course not. It is _your_ body. Liam was an accident, not that I would trade him for anything in the world.”

“I wouldn’t either,” she said tearfully. “I love him so much, Killian, but I…”

“But what, sweetheart?”

“I miss _us_. I miss the freedom we had. I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Everything? I’m afraid of my magic, of losing control, of hurting someone. You. Liam. Gods, if something happened to him…”

“You would never hurt him, Emma. Never.”

“I wanted to hurt Sandorne.”

“Not really something to be ashamed of, darling. I challenged him to a duel if he disrespected you again.”

She giggled. “You did?”

“Aye.”

“Pirate.”

“Your pirate.”

She squeezed his hand. “But what if I did hurt someone? I don’t want this power, Killian. No one who has magic has a happy ending.”

“What about the queen in Arendelle? She doesn’t seem the evil sort.”

“I really want to meet her. It would be nice to talk to…” She flushed. “Someone like me.”

Killian wasn’t offended. He was there for Emma as best he could, but magic was a little out of his depth. “We’ll find a way to make that happen, lass. But your magic…Emma, it comes from love, True Love. I just don’t see how that can be bad.”

“I want to believe that, Killian. So much.”

He drew her back into his arms. He vowed to help her see what he saw when he looked at her. He wouldn’t allow her to fall into darkness and despair. She had too much light. Emma snuggled against his chest, allowing his solid warm presence to soothe her fears. “Perhaps you’d like a nap, sweetheart?”

She did feel exhausted. All that magic tired her out. “Do you promise to wake me if Liam needs me?”

“Of course, love. And we’ll see him later, I promise. But you must take care of yourself.”

“I try,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore.”

He kissed her temple. “Is that why you’ve been going to the training yard?”

She flushed. “I don’t feel like myself. Shouldn’t I by now?” Liam was nearly eight months old, but there were times—most of the time, if she was being honest—where she still felt out of sorts.

Killian let his blunted wrist lay on his stomach. Emma slid her hand over it, her thumb stroking the scarred flesh. “When I lost my hand…I felt a bit like that. I wasn’t Killian Jones anymore. I didn’t know who that was. I let myself be consumed by anger and hatred; my only goal was revenge. Even now, I know I can never be simply _Killian Jones_ again. Captain Hook will always be a part of who I am.”

“Do you miss who you used to be?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Life was certainly simpler.” He tightened his hold on her. “Then I wouldn’t have you or Liam and that is quite intolerable.” He drew little circles on her hip. “I will do anything in my power to help you through this, Emma. Name it and it’s yours.”

“You are,” she replied fervently. “Even if I don’t always show it.”

“Oh darling, don’t worry about me. You won’t be getting rid of me easily.”

She giggled. “Good because I like you exactly where you are.” Impulsively, she pressed a kiss to his chest. And another. And another. They locked eyes for a long moment, then leaned in at the exact same time. Her exhaustion melted away as he kissed her, long strokes of his tongue that set her on fire. She cupped his scruffy cheeks as he rolled on top of her, relishing his weight pressing her into the mattress.

“Princess…”

“Make love to me,” she begged between kisses. “Please.”

His hand slithered between them to test her readiness. She was soaked. And he’d foolishly left his bloody pants on! He kissed her hard, his weight braced on his forearm while he tried to unlace his trousers. Emma reached down to help him, going so far as to shove him on _his_ back so she could get them off. He arched as she pumped him a couple of times, savoring the feel of him in her hand. Her core throbbed in response, desperate to have him inside her. Before she could change her mind, Emma hastily crossed her arms and drew her borrowed shirt over her head.

Time seemed to stop. Emma’s heart pounded as her lover got a good look at the woman she had become. Killian saw the abject _fear_ in her eyes; it tore at his heart. How could this amazing beautiful creature ever believe that he wouldn’t want her with every fiber of his being? Killian moved up on his knees, beckoning her to kneel in front of him. Once she was settled, he kissed her, distracting her while his hand and wrist stroked every inch of her he could reach. Contrary to whatever Emma believed, she hadn’t changed that much. Her breasts were larger, her belly just slightly curved; most of her baby weight was gone. He’d found her beautiful even when she was—in her words—big as a house. He adored her curves, her smooth hips, her lush arse, breasts that begged to be sucked. He rubbed her nipples until they were hard, earning him a needy whine.

“Easy, darling.” He ducked, licking each nipple in turn, a little milk leaking out. He was shocked when his cock twitched; his lover was a mother, nursing their babe with the fruit of her body. He felt an irrational jealousy of his son; Emma was _his_. His lips curled around one pert nipple, giving it a gentle suck. Emma keened, her fingers diving into his hair.

“Killian…oh…oh gods…” Warmth flooded her sex, her body craving _more._

“Mmmm,” he hummed, moving to the other breast. He suckled her just enough to tease, to make her writhe with desire. “Still think I don’t want you, Princess?”

“Gods, just fuck me,” she panted. “Please!”

Killian chuckled darkly as he hoisted her into his lap. They worked to find the perfect angle, Emma moaning loudly as he entered her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed her lover deeply as she bounced on his cock, her feet planted firmly on the bed. Killian took every drop of passion she had, giving back in equal measure. Instinctively, he spanked her ass as she rode him; Emma screamed.

“More, more!”

He gave her what she needed so badly, spanking her until her cheek was a deep pink. Overwhelmed, they fell back toward the bed, momentarily losing their rhythm, but Emma quickly found it again, grinding against him. He stroked her clit furiously, desperate to make her climax. Emma faltered, too close to orgasm to keep going. Killian drew her close, holding her as he thrust up powerfully off the bed, the old wood creaking under them.

Emma buried her face in the crook of her lover’s shoulder as she finally climaxed, every inch of her trembling. It seemed to go on forever as Killian fucked her, chasing his own high. He grunted something that sounded like her name, giving into his high. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he panted, pure bliss coursing through his veins. “My Emma.”

Her lip trembled at he held her, but she didn’t cry. This was all she ever wanted to be, a woman hopelessly in love with her True Love. “I love you,” she whispered.

“As I love you, darling.” His lips touched her forehead. “How do you feel?”

She raised her head. “It’s a start, Captain.” It was difficult to be anything but happy and content as post coital bliss settled over them. She pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient. For being an amazing father to Liam.”

“I’d do anything for our boy. And for you, my love. You are all I need to be truly happy.”

“And you and Liam are all I need to be happy.” She kissed again, softer, tiredness tugging at the edge of her awareness. “Sleepy.”

“Rest, darling. We’ll check on Liam later, yeah?”

“What about…” But Killian put a finger to her lips.

“Don’t,” he scolded gently. “It’s nothing.”

She frowned, but allowed him to have his way for the moment. She could try and fix things later. If her magic went haywire again, she’d just ask Tinkerbelle to help her. Killian maneuvered them back into the center of the bed, rising to fetch a cloth to clean her up. She was asleep by the time he returned to her, drawing her back into his arms. He wasn’t so foolish as to think all their troubles were sorted. Far from it. But as long as they had each other, he knew they could find a way through. Together.

He refused to accept anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

She paced back and forth, her squalling son on her hip. She was so _tired._ In the days since the odious Council meeting, little Liam had come down with a spring cold. He was stuffed up, coughing, and very, very uncomfortable. He was so sniffly that he was having trouble nursing, so he was hungry on top of everything else. Emma couldn’t recall the last time she slept. She felt like a zombie; it didn’t seem like anything she did could soothe him.

Gods, she was such a failure.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, plucking at her loose bodice. She was starting to feel desperate; what if he didn’t eat? “Can you try to eat for Mama?” She exposed a breast, maneuvering him in place. Liam seemed to calm for a moment, staring up at her with Killian’s blue eyes. “Please, Liam. Please eat.” She tilted his head and he finally latched on, his wailing stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief, sinking down into her rocker.

It was too good to be true. Liam only nursed for a few minutes before he was scrunching up his face and screaming his little lungs out. Nerves shattered, Emma broke down and cried. She continued to rock him—to no avail—crying all the while. All her fear, worry, frustration and loss poured out in her tears. She was too young for this! She was a terrible mother who couldn’t get her own child to stop crying! Feeding, changing, rocking, nothing worked!

What if he never stopped crying? What if he couldn’t calm enough to eat? What if this wasn’t _just_ a cold? What if—somehow—the Dark One had cursed her baby? They’d thought her pregnancy protected her from his machinations, but what if he’d done something to her baby? Emma cried harder; she felt so helpless and useless and alone!

She was still crying when Killian arrived.

Killian rushed to his wife and son, worry etched in his face. “Emma? What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are you crying?”

“Get away from me!” she screeched, standing abruptly and backing away from him. She cradled Liam to her chest; he was still crying too. Her upset was making him worse, but she paid him no heed. “This is all your fault!”

Killian blinked, profoundly confused. What the bloody hell was going on? He’d gone down to the village, to see if there was some herbal remedy for Liam. He knew Emma was exhausted and frazzled, spending every waking moment for the last three days trying to tend their sick son. He was exhausted, sick with worry about them both. Nothing they did seemed to help; Liam simply kept crying. He’d only been gone for an hour so; he had no idea what could have transpired to make Emma react to him so.

“Emma, what _is_ wrong?” He made the mistake of taking a step toward her; she held up her right hand, magic pulsing at the end of it.

“Stay back, I said!”

He held up his hands in surrender. She’d never threatened him with her magic before. Something was very, very wrong with her. “Emma, love, listen to me. You’re exhausted. Why don’t you hand Liam to me…”

“You are _not_ taking my son! I’m a good mother! I am!”

Gods, she was breaking his heart! He had to be strong, for her sake. “Emma, darling, you are a wonderful mother. Liam’s my son too. I only want to help. Please, let me help you.”

Liam struggled in her arms; she realized just how tightly she was holding him. She loosened her hold just a fraction, but still eyed Killian warily. “I didn’t want this,” she said, her lower lips trembling. “I’m too young to be a mother. I can’t do it! I can’t even get to him to stop crying!” Fat salty tears spilled onto her cheeks; her magic flickered and died. She collapsed, still cradling Liam to her chest.

Killian rushed over to her, praying she would let him hold her. She didn’t fight him as he wrapped his arms around her and Liam, holding them close. “Shhh, my loves. It’s alright. It’s alright.”

But that only made her cry harder. The last few minutes hit her like a ton of falling stone. What had she done?! She’d screamed and raved in a voice that wasn’t her own! She’d threated the man she loved! Worse, she’d admitted her deepest, darkest secret.

There was a dark horrible part of her heart that hated being mother. Hated having her newfound freedom snatched from her so young. She loved Liam more than her own life, but part of her resented him too.

She _was_ a terrible mother. Who thought such things about their own flesh and blood? A child born of True Love?

Killian rocked them, singing Emma’s favorite sea shanty. He didn’t know how to help; he was afraid. Emma hadn’t been herself since the birth of their son. She had good days—his birthday came to mind—and bad days, though never anything like _this._ She’d never lashed out before. He did everything he could to ease her burden, but he was no substitute for a mother’s touch. He felt like a failure. Perhaps she was right. He’d bedded her repeatedly without paying any heed to the consequences.

“I am so sorry, Emma,” he said quietly. “So sorry.”

Emma sniffed; her head pounded fiercely. Her chest ached, both from crying and her too full breasts. “How can you even look at me?” she asked in a small voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I tried to…to…” She started crying again, glancing down at Liam. He was calmer now, just sniffling now.

“Shhh,” he soothed, kissing her temple.

She shook her head hard. “No. You were…I don’t know what I was thinking!”

“No harm done,” he promised. “But I am worried about you, Emma. I think we both can see this is more than simple exhaustion.”

She nodded. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m scared.” What if she did something to hurt Liam? Or Killian? Her magic was still acting strangely; she didn’t know how to fix it. Her lips trembled again. “Can you forgive me?”

Killian’s heart shattered for her. “There’s nothing to forgive.” He kissed her lips sweetly. “How about we take Liam to bed with us tonight, yeah?”

She sniffed and nodded. “Okay.” Killian helped her up, keeping his arm around her as he guided them back to their suite.

“May I take him?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah.” She handed her son off to his father; it seemed that Liam had finally cried himself out. The poor thing was tired and hungry.

“You get ready for bed,” her husband reminded her. “When you’re ready, I’ve brought something that should help the little one.” Killian looked fondly at his son. “We’ll make you better, little prince. Papa’s got you.”

Emma smiled sadly as she slowly peeled off her ruined gown. The bodice was stained with leaking breastmilk; she herself felt like she needed a nice long bath. She was ashamed of her outburst; she could never regret having her son! Killian was so good with him; he was born to be a father. They were the two people she loved most in the world!

So why did she feel like this? And how did she make it stop?

The fabric of her borrowed shirt scratched over her nipples, making her wince. “Ow.”

Killian’s head snapped up. “Love?”

“It’s nothing. Liam just hasn’t fed in a while.”

“Something I think we can remedy soon.” Once Emma was settled in the bed, her back cushioned against the fluffy pillows, he handed little Liam back. “Back in a tick.” He went to retrieve his satchel, his prize inside. “Still with me?”

She touched her son’s head, gently combing her fingers through his dark curls. He looked so much like Killian, her husband in miniature. “We’re okay.”

Killian shrugged out of his heavy coat and yanked off his boots. “I took a little trip to the village; I thought perhaps the local apothecary might have something that could help the little one.”

“Good thinking,” she said, sounding defeated. “It was more than I could do.”

Killian shook his head. “No, darling. Please don’t. It might be hard for you believe right now, but you are a _wonderful_ mother. Liam is lucky to have you. We both are.”

“Then why do I feel like this?”

“I don’t know. But I _promise_ I will help you get through this, my love.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, still feeling helpless. “I’ve taken you from your life.”

“Rubbish.”

“Killian…”

“No. Emma, you don’t understand. All my life…all I’ve truly wanted was a home. A family. Everyone I’ve ever loved has died. I thought I could run, find fulfillment in thieving and mayhem. I was wrong. I can say with absolute certainty that my life truly began when I saw you up on that dais. I don’t regret a single thing that has brought me to you. You’ve given me everything I always wanted but was too afraid to seek. _This_ is the life I want. Right here, with you and our boy.”

“I miss it though,” she replied sadly. “Sailing with you on the _Jolly Roger._ I miss our home.” She knew why they’d returned to her family’s ancestral home. She was glad to be surrounded by family and friends with the danger of the Dark One still lurking. Emma felt like she had truly found herself out there on the high seas. Now she didn’t know who she was anymore.

He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing away her tears with his hook. “Home is wherever you are. That said, if going sailing will make you happy, then we’ll find a way to make it happen. I promise.” He was already planning a short afternoon voyage into the bay near the castle, but perhaps he needed to think bigger.

“I just feel so selfish.” She looked down at Liam. “I love him, I do. But I can’t help but wonder what might have been.”

“If not for him, I might have lost you,” Killian replied, a lump forming in his throat. “I don’t know what I would have done then.” He could still see her there, lying still as death on a slab. Cursed. Trapped in some hellish place. All for loving him.

His obvious emotion had her crying again. “Hold me?”

“Of course.” But first, he needed to see to their son. He got out the little vial of extract and scooted closer. “Let’s see if this helps.” Together, they administered the elixir, getting Liam to swallow several drops. Once his son was taken care of, Killian shucked his pants and brace, climbing into the bed with his wife. He gathered her in his arms, her back to his chest.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“What are we going to do?”

He thought about that. He didn’t know how to help, so they needed an expert. “How would you feel about speaking to the midwife?”

She let out a long breath. “It can’t hurt. I’ve been trying to talk to Tinkerbelle, but she hasn’t responded to my letters.”

“Strange, that.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. With my magic on the fritz…”

“Define on the fritz, love.”

She shrugged. “Like sometimes it doesn’t do what I want it to do. The other day it took me five tries to light the fire. It’s scary.”

“Then we’ll summon her tomorrow.” Tinkerbelle was Emma’s magical mentor; more importantly, they were dear friends. If anyone could help, it was Tink.

They were quiet for a long time. Then Emma spoke. “Killian, what if we can’t fix what’s wrong with me?”

“We will.”

“But what if we _don’t?”_ She hated feeling like this. Like she was a stranger in her own body.

“Have we ever failed at anything we’ve tried to do?”

“No, but…”

“No buts. You are strong, Emma. Stronger than whatever ails you. And I’m not going _anywhere.”_

How did he know what she was thinking? “I really am sorry, Killian. I don’t know where I would be without you.” Married to the Dark One’s son and miserable probably. She shuddered at the thought.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter. “I love you, Emma. More than I can say.”

“Me too.” Liam began to fuss again, but she noticed he was breathing much better, his eyes less glassy. “Are you hungry, baby?” He gurgled again, and she hastily eased him to her breast. This time when he latched on he suckled enthusiastically. “Thank the gods.”

Killian stroked his son’s head. “After he’d fed, I want you to sleep,” he said gently.

“Killian…”

“You’ve hardly slept for three days. Liam will be right here with us. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

She was too tired to fight him. The pain in her chest eased as Liam fed, first one breast, then the other. In half an hour, her son was sound asleep. “I love you too, Liam,” she whispered. “Killian?”

“Aye?”

“You’ll protect him? From me?”

“Emma, you would never hurt our son. Not ever.”

“Still, promise me?”

He sighed. “Aye, I promise. Now will you rest?” She nodded. Reluctantly, she moved, laying Liam out in the middle of the bed, Emma curling up on his left side. Killian did the same on the right, drawing the blankets over them. He leaned in and kissed his wife and son. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”

She found his hand in the darkness, squeezing tight. “Thank you, Killian.” Her exhaustion was finally catching up with her, in moments she was asleep.

Killian watched her for a long time. He hated to admit it, but he was afraid. This wasn’t an enemy he knew how to fight. He desperately wanted to help, but he didn’t have the first clue. He hoped the day would give them come clarity.

 

* * *

 

Emma woke up still feeling exhausted. It was still dark in their room, although the first tendrils of sunlight were trying to peak out from the edge of the heavy curtains. She groaned and closed her eyes, hoping she’d fall back to sleep. Her son seemed to have other ideas. He was awake too and not happy about it. Thankfully, her husband also noticed Liam’s fussing.

“Sleep, darling,” he murmured. “I’ve got him.”

“He might be hungry.” She rolled on her side, wincing slightly; she certainly was ready to feed Liam if he needed it.

“Let me try first,” Killian coaxed. He desperately wanted to giver her time to rest. To that end, he scooped up his son and eased out of the bed, hoping a little stroll would get the lad back to sleep. So, he paced back and forth humming Liam’s favorite tune. After about twenty minutes, his son was safely asleep. “There’s a good lad.”

“Thanks,” Emma mumbled as they rejoined her in bed.

“It’s no trouble. Go back to sleep.” Killian huddled as close to his family as he could; Emma took his hand in hers and rested it on her belly. He took that as a good sign. There were times when she was oddly sensitive about him touching her, even though her desire for him had not diminished. It was very strange. He prayed Rosalind could shed some light on the situation.

When Emma woke again, the sun was fully up. In fact, she’d slept late, much later than she normally did. She was surprised to find Killian watching her. “Hi.”

“Good morning, love.”

“Liam?”

“Right here, waiting patiently for his mum.”

“Our son, patient?”

He laughed. “I’ve been distracting him. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“I’m up now.” She forced herself to sit up, her sensitive nipples rubbing over the cotton fabric. “Are you ready for some breakfast, Liam?” Her son gurgled, waving his little fist at her. She scooped him up, automatically easing the shirt aside. “Oh, you _were_ hungry!”

Emma seemed almost happy; it was such a contrast to the woman he’d found when he returned from the village. “Sweetheart? How do you feel?”

She saw the loving concern in his eyes and felt shame wash over her again. “Still tired, but better. I don’t know what came over me.”

“We’re going to figure it out. Once Liam’s fed, we’ll get you a bath. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven. Will you join me?” She missed those lazy afternoons spent in his company, most often sans clothes.

“Do you want me to?”

She nodded. “Please?”

He smiled and nodded. “After we’ll go see Rosalind. I think your mother would love to look after Liam for the afternoon.” With his new herbal remedy, Killian predicted his son would be fine away from his parents for a few precious hours.

Liam was sleepy again after feeding; Emma placed him in his ornate crib for a nap, then carefully shut the door. She wrapped her arms around her middle, staring out at the harbor while Killian issued the necessary orders for her bath. It would take some time to get that ready, giving her time to think.

What was wrong with her? Why was she still having such sudden mood swings? She thought she was getting better. She was still a little afraid of Killian’s reaction to her body, but she hadn’t harbored such selfish thoughts about her son in a long time. She loved Liam with all her heart; it wasn’t right to blame him for the changes in her life. He was innocent. She tried to think if anything had changed, what could have sent her spiraling down this path again.

And then it hit her. _Sandorne._ He’d actually suggested keeping Emma constantly pregnant to protect her from the Dark One! To her face! Without any care for what Emma’s feelings were about her own body. Some day she did want to have more children, but not now. Not like this. She wanted to give Liam siblings when the world was safe. She was frightened enough for his safety as it was. Because even her pregnancy wouldn’t stop the Dark One from going after the people she loved, starting with her precious son.

She sensed Killian behind her, watching her. “It’s okay. I’m not going to turn you into a toad.”

“Good thing, that.” He stepped up behind her, carefully wrapping his arms around her waist. She went very still, self-conscious about her less than flat stomach. “I meant what I said, Princess. We’re going to get through this.”

“I feel terrible. If I’d hurt you…”

“But you didn’t. You’ve been tending a sick infant for three days, that couldn’t have helped the melancholy you’re feeling. I only wish I could do more to help you.”

“You are helping,” she promised him. She turned his arms, burying her face in his chest. “This helps.”

He tightened his hold, rubbing her back. “I would take this from you if I could. I hate to see you hurting, lass.”

She sniffed. “I love you,” she murmured. “No matter what.”

He kissed the top of her head. “And I you, my princess. Are you ready for that bath?”

She nodded. He slipped her hand into his and guided her back to their bedroom. The enormous copper tub was in its usual place filled with steaming water, just the way she liked it. “Do you still want me here, love?”

She nodded. “I miss this.”

He smiled gently. “So do I.” He yanked off his shirt, boldly stepping into the tub. He groaned; the hot water felt incredible. It was one of the perks of being married to a princess that he heartily approved of. While Killian was distracted, Emma slipped off her own borrowed shirt. She tried not to feel too self-conscious as she stepped over the side; Killian caught her hand to steady her. She flushed, embarrassed. “What is it, love?”

She lowered herself into the water, its heat almost instantly soaking into her sore, exhausted body. “Hmmmm.”

He could tell she was avoiding his question. He let her relax for a few minutes, encouraged by the way she leaned against his chest. “Better?”

“Much.”

“That’s good. Care to share what’s going on in the pretty head of yours, Princess?”

Emma bit her lip. “Do I have to?”

He stroked her arm. “No, but I think it would help. You can tell me anything, Emma.”

She sighed. He would no doubt think her fears were silly. So, she answered his question with one of her own. “What do you see when you look at me?”

He frowned, wondering where she was going with this. “I see the woman who stole my heart without even trying,” he said honestly. “My strong fierce brave princess. The mother of my son.”

It warmed her heart to hear him say that. Yet, it wasn’t what she wanted. “Mother and princess, got it.”

Killian sensed he was losing her. “Hey, look at me, Emma.” She turned in the water, keeping her eyes downcast. He lifted her chin with his finger. “What do you see?”

She had to be honest. “A stranger. It’s like I don’t know myself anymore. Sometimes I think you’ll wake up one day, regret ever laying eyes on me and leave.”

“That will never happen. I married you, love. Twice. That’s not a commitment I make lightly.”

“I _know_ that,” she sighed. “In here.” She pointed at her chest. “But here…” She pointed to her head. “That’s something else entirely. And I hate it. I hate feeling like this. Like Emma, the woman, got lost. Everyone defines me by being a mother. Or a princess. Or the Savior. I just want to be Emma.”

“I’m so sorry.” He hugged her close, his heartbreaking for her. “For what it’s worth, I happen to love Emma very much.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s such a naughty girl, inviting nasty pirates into her bed.”

“Pirate,” she corrected with a smile. She ducked her head, placing a kiss on his collarbone. “Just one. And a handsome one, at that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” She still felt a little wary, but the love in his eyes encouraged her. Slowly, she drew his hand to her breast, moaning softly as he flicked her nipple. “Oh yes.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her throat. She sank her fingers into his hair, relaxing into his touch. The sharp tug went straight to his groin, his cock swelling quickly. “Gods, I’ve missed you.” He couldn’t help but think he was partly to blame for her current state of mind. He’d not done enough to keep his promise to her. That ended right now.

“Me too,” she breathed, moaning as his lips finally found hers. They kissed like they hadn’t days, all lips and tongues and teeth. She melted into him, inching closer, eager to feel him between her legs. “Killian.”

“Tell me what you need, my darling.”

“You,” she said firmly. “I only ever need you.”

“Lean back and hang on to the sides.”

His commanding tone made her shiver. This was exactly what she needed, her commanding sexy pirate. She did as he bid, gasping in pleasure as he latched onto one firm nipple. He sucked hard, the pleasure and pain going straight to her core. Her clit pulsed with need, need for him. “Fuck, more,” she moaned softly. “Feels so fucking good.”

He switched his attentions, his tongue swirling around her other nipple while his fingers rolled and pinched it abandoned twin. “Does it hurt?”

“No, no, it feels w _onderful.”_ She arched her back a little more, jutting her chest out. She felt wild and wanton, the most like herself that she’d been in weeks.

“Fucking hell.” He returned to his task, his arm resting on her hip. Once again, some milk dribbled out; he lapped it up greedily. A lesser man might be put off, but not he. He loved everything she was.

She ground her hips, seeking friction in the water. “Oh gods.”

Killian dropped his hand, his fingers finding her clit. She shuddered in his arms. “Such a pretty cunt,” he growled, teasing her mercilessly. “Let’s see if you’re wet for me.”

She bit her lip as he pressed a single digit into her heat. She was slick and not just from the water. He pumped his finger steadily, gradually adding a second, then a third. She stretched around him, a keening cry falling from her lips as she instinctively tried to ride him. “There’s my wanton dirty princess. That’s it, love. Ride my fingers. So fucking hot.”

She moaned, struggling to find the right angle. Water splashed as she moved; she wrapped her arms around his neck, using it as an anchor. “Fuck, fuck!” she cried, his fingers stroking her most sensitive place. “Yes!”

“Come for me,” he demanded. “Come, so I can have you. Come, Emma. _Now.”_

She exploded instantly, his low growl magic in her ear. She had to bury her face in his shoulder to keep from screaming; yet, her need was not sated. She needed to feel him inside her. “Killian, _please,_ ” she panted. “I need it so much. Please!”

He drew her close for a hungry kiss, adjusting their positions in the water. Emma groaned in pleasure as he filled her, his long thick cock exactly what she needed. Killian shook, holding himself back, reveling in the sheer perfection of her body. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he chanted, leaning back in the tub. “My Emma.”

She cupped his scruffy cheeks, mewling between kisses, water splashing as she bounced in his lap. His hand slid over her ass, kneading and squeezing; his hunger matching her own. “Killian. _Killian.”_

“Gods, I love the way you say my name.” Almost from the very beginning, he was _Killian_ , not Hook. She saw the man within and loved him without shame or reservation.

She smiled wickedly. _“Killian.”_ Her breath was hot next to his ear; he growled in response.

“Naughty girl.” He captured her lips again, kissing her deeply as his fingers slid between her cheeks. She moaned loudly as he rubbed her puckered hole; she’d discovered how much she enjoyed being touched there not long ago. Her surprise for Killian’s birthday was seared into her memory, a bright shining light in the darkness that clouded her life. “Hmm, you like that?”

She nodded sharply. _“Yes.”_

“That’s my girl.” She’d always been bolder than he imagined royalty could be, always eager to experiment and try new things. She was his perfect match. “Ride me, love. Nice and steady.” She did so, resting her head on his shoulder. Slowly, he massaged her, gently working her open. She moaned and sighed, pleasure pooling in her belly. When he finally pressed a finger inside, she cried out softly, but not from pain. Never from pain. It was a new kind of bliss, the feeling of being stretched, of being _full._

“Oh gods, Killian,” she breathed, clinging to his neck.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! Fuck, it feels…fucking _amazing._ ”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t stop.” She kissed him, tongue tangling with his, another orgasm coiling tight in her belly. “Don’t ever stop.”

“Never.” He eased another finger inside her; she gasped her approval. He could feel her trembling, a sure sign she was close again. “Faster, sweetling. Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

She obeyed him mindlessly, her body chasing pleasure. She adjusted the angle of her hips, the tip of him finally hitting her just right. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out. Killian saw her struggle; he covered her mouth with his, smothering her cry of completion. She came _hard_ , her walls spasming around his cock and his fingers, her back arching painfully. Her nails dug sharply into his shoulder and he grunted, the pain finally dragging his own orgasm from him. His hips bucked up off the bottom of the tub, pumping her full of his seed. He burned for this woman; he knew it would never stop, never wane.

They were soulmates in every way.

Emma hummed and relaxed as her lover took care of her. If she didn’t open her eyes, she could pretend things were as they had been before. He held her until they caught their breath, then he gently washed her. She almost protested—she loved the scent of him on her skin—but it felt too good. Once she was clean, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Much better.” For now.

“As much as I wish we could remain here all day…”

“People would miss us, I know.”

He hugged her gently. “We knew this would be a challenge, love.”

“Not like this.”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “But I know you are equal to it. And I will be with you. So much, you’ll be sick of me.”

She smiled. “Not possible. I love you too much.”

“We’ll see.”

She kissed his lips. “Thank you, Killian.”

“For what?”

“Everything.” He changed her life the night he came to her rooms. And again, when his crew accosted the ship she was sailing in as she searched for him. He stood by her through every adventure, every challenge. He gave her a beautiful son. She wasn’t losing any of that without a fight, even if the fight was with herself.

Killian watched her exit the tub; she certainly seemed happier. It didn’t mean their troubles were over, but it was a start. That was everything.

 

* * *

 

“How’s my grandson today?” Snow White asked, smiling at the family as they entered.

“Much better,” Killian informed his mother in law. “The apothecary was very helpful.”

“That’s wonderful!” Snow reached out and Emma gratefully placed her son in her mother’s arms. Snow kissed Liam’s brow, apparently unafraid of catching his illness. Snow loved being a grandmother, even now she did everything she could to spoil Liam rotten.

“He’s been fed and changed, so he should be good for a few hours,” Emma said, hoping her lingering tiredness didn’t show. After they talked to Rosalind, she thought she might take a nap. She had a lot of sleep to catch up on.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Emma clenched her fist. “Killian and I are taking a walk into the village.” The surrounding area was well warded by the Blue Fairy; it was as safe as anyone could make it. Emma was thoroughly sick of being cooped up. She wanted to get outside!

“Okay.” Snow looked skeptical, but she said nothing else. “Liam and I will be just fine, won’t we? Perhaps Grandpapa will show you his horse! Would you like that?” Liam giggled.

“Mother, he’s eight months old!”

“I know, but he’s still a prince. He’ll need to learn how to ride one day. Your father was taking you down to the stables almost every day when you were Liam’s age.”

That surprised her. “He did?”

Snow smiled fondly. “Oh yes. The two of you were thick as thieves, even then.”

“I don’t remember.”

“That’s why you have me. Now, you go. Have a good time!”

Killian wrapped his arm around Emma’s shoulders as Snow disappeared. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell her?”

Emma nodded. “Not yet. I want to make sure I’m not going crazy first.” Having Killian there helped. It had been too long since they spent an afternoon together, just the two of them. Not many people took much notice as they slipped out of the castle; Emma was grateful. She was dressed in her trousers, tunic and vest, her hair tied up in a messy knot. It was very reminiscent of her typical attire on the _Jolly_ ; she was pleased it fit. She’d had new clothes made some time ago, hopeful that she would regain her figure. It gave her a goal to reach for during all her hours of training.

Maybe one day soon she could take Killian up on his offer to train with her.

The village was busy. Carts, animals and people moved up and down the streets; quite a few people waved as they passed. Killian was well known, since the members of the _Jolly Roger_ ’s crew—new and old—lived there when not sailing. Sadly, they hadn’t taken the ship out since their honeymoon. It taunted her, anchored in the harbor.

“What are you thinking, darling?”

“The _Jolly Roger_ and how much I miss her.”

“I knew I loved you for a reason.”

“I want to go sailing. Soon,” she reminded him. “If Liam’s a prince, he’s also a pirate. I want him to love it as much as we do.”

“Way ahead of you, love. Smee’s already hard at work, remember? We’ll get out there, very soon.” Liam’s illness had placed their previous plans on hold; it was time they got back to them. After their bath, Killian had ordered them breakfast in bed, which they ate as they played with their son. He watched Emma carefully; he was still worried about her. She truly did appear to be happier, smiling and laughing with Liam. It warmed his heart.

“Have I told you I love you today?”

“Aye, but it’s good to hear all the same.”

The weather was nice; spring was almost in full bloom. Emma basked in the sunshine, turning her face up into it as they strolled. She trusted Killian to keep her on track. She focused on that rather than the fear that still gnawed at her. She didn’t want to think about it until they reached Rosalind’s home.

“We’re here, love.”

Emma kept hold of his hand as she knocked smartly on the door. It occurred to her that she’d never actually been to the midwife’s home; Rosalind always saw her in the castle. But why shouldn’t she visit? Her dislike of formality and protocol was one of the reasons she ran away in the first place.

The short wooden door creaked open; Rosalind’s jaw dropped when she spotted her royal visitors. “Your Highness! Captain!” She quickly bobbed a curtsey, wiping her hands on her apron. “This is…well, it’s quite a shock, if I’m honest.”

“Hello, Rosalind,” Emma replied, smiling tentatively. Fear slithered down her spine, but she had to do this. For her sake. For her son’s sake. For Killian’s sake. She was done feeling like this, damn it. “May we come in?”

“Oh! Of course.” The midwife stepped back, holding the door as they entered. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, we’re fine.”

“Please sit. My apologies for the state of my home. I was doing some laundry.” Rosalind went through the room, snatching up neat piles of clothes, rushing them back to what Emma assumed was the woman’s bedroom. Emma and Killian were perched in a pair of well-loved wooden chairs when she returned. “Now what can I do for you?”

Emma glanced at her husband, who gently took her hand in his. “Um, I was hoping you could answer some questions for me.”

“I can try. How’s the prince?”

“Liam’s well. He’s been battling a cold the last few days.”

“I thought so. You have that look about you, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Emma sighed in relief. Perhaps she wasn’t going crazy after all! “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Liam’s our first child, so all this is still very new to me.”

“Trust me, Your Highness, motherhood doesn’t come easy to anyone. And if they tell you otherwise, then they are lying.”

Somehow, Emma knew that _her_ situation was different from other new mothers. She could feel it in her bones. Killian squeezed her hand encouragingly. She could do this. “You’ve been a mother?”

“Oh yes. Mine are all grown now.”

“You must have been very young.” Rosalind didn’t seem that old to her, her mother’s age perhaps?

“I had my first at fifteen.”

 _Wow._ “Did you ever, um, wish you hadn’t? So young, I mean.”

Rosalind tilted her head, her eyes both empathetic and curious. “I think many young women do,” she said honestly. “It’s a stressful time, even when you have people around you.” Emma nodded emphatically. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what’s troubling you?”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Emma bit her lip, wondering how to explain. Eventually, she just started talking. She described her mood swings, her fear of being trapped. There were days—even weeks—where she felt mostly herself, but then it would all change for no reason. “And lately, my magic’s been acting strange. I was so tired, so worried about Liam yesterday, that I almost attacked for poor Killian! It was awful.” A single tear slid down her cheek: Killian rubbed her back soothingly.

“Rosalind, do you know what’s wrong with me?”

Rosalind stood and knelt down in front of the young princess, her heart going out to her. Emma was not the first new mother to come to her after the birth of her child. The princess’s obvious distress and fear of hurting those she loved was profound. “I can’t speak for the magic part of it, but your symptoms are very familiar. It’s an ailment that is more common than you think.”

Emma’s eyes lit up with hope. “Really?”

“Very much so.”

“Will I get better?”

Rosalind nodded firmly. “With time and care. Luckily for you, you have a very faithful spouse by your side. Not all women do.”

Emma looked at Killian and smiled. She loved him so much. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.” Killian surprised her by blushing. “Is there anything I can do?”

“First, let’s take a closer look at your symptoms.” So they talked. It felt so good to unburden herself, to have someone _understand_ what she was feeling. It was such a relief to know she was _sick_ and not insane. That she could fight this, just like she would one day battle Rumplestitskin. And just like then, she would win.

An hour later, Emma actually felt better. Killian sat by her side the whole time, his hand in hers. He didn’t say anything, but she appreciated his presence more than she could say. It also made her more ashamed of her actions the day before. Not that it was her fault. Now that she knew there was something wrong with her, she finally felt like she had some control.

“Any time you need to talk, don’t hesitate to stop by,” Rosalind said as they rose to leave.

“Thank you so much,” Emma said, hugging the older woman. Rosalind seemed surprised at first, but quickly hugged her back. “You don’t know how much this has helped.”

“We women have to stick together at such times,” Rosalind said. “You’ll get through this, Princess.”

“Emma, please.” This woman had delivered her son. It felt wrong to stand on the ceremony Emma disliked so much.

“Very well.”

Killian hung back for a moment, wanting a private word with the midwife. “Is she truly going to be alright?” he asked softly.

Rosalind nodded. “You did the right thing, bringing her here. The most important thing is to be there for her in any way she needs.”

“I will do my very best.”

“I’m sure you will, Captain.”

“Thank you.” He felt a mixture of anguish and relief; he was thankful that they’d found someone who understood what Emma was going through, but he was also angry with himself for not doing more to help her. It was clear she’d been quietly suffering for months.

Emma noticed the look on her husband’s face when he emerged from the little hut. “Killian? What’s wrong?”

He shook off his self-loathing. “Nothing, love.”

She frowned. “Don’t think you can fool me, pirate. I know you too well.”

He took her hand in his, leading her back toward the village. Neither spoke; Emma hoped he would talk to her when he was ready. Was he blaming himself for her troubles? It wouldn’t surprise her. He always took far too much on himself; he always had. Yet, if their adventures had taught her anything, it was that they worked best as a team.

It wasn’t long before the _Jolly Roger_ loomed in front of them. Without speaking, Emma gently tugged them in that direction. Killian followed without argument. Liam would be fine with Snow and David for another hour or so. The wood of the gangplank creaked as they stepped aboard. Killian had put the old ship into winter quarters prior to Liam’s birth; Smee had already started readying the ship for use. The sails were freshly repaired, new ropes secured them. The old wood was freshly polished and gleaming.

Emma ran her hand over the rail, true peace washing over her for the first time in quite a while. “Now will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Isn’t that my line?” he joked.

Emma turned, leaning back against the rail. “Talk to me, Killian. I can see something’s bothering you.”

He stepped closer to her, leaning down to brush a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry, love.”

“For what?”

“For not recognizing your struggles sooner. I feel like I failed you.”

“Killian, no! You’ve been so understanding and kind. I think…I think I didn’t want to admit there was something wrong. The things I’ve felt…I’m ashamed. I’m terrified of failing you, Liam…everyone. How can I be some mythical Savior when I feel like this? And it’s so confusing, because I _love_ Liam. And I love you. But I can’t help but miss the way things used to be. And I know we’re never going to get that back.”

He wrapped his arms around her and she clung to him. “Remember what I said before Liam was born, Princess?”

He’d said so many things, but she knew of what he spoke. “That’d we’d be on a whole new adventure.”

“Aye.” He kissed her lips. “I miss our old life too, Emma. We might not be able to go back, but we can still be happy.”

“I want that, Killian. So much.”

Encouraged by her smile, he drew her toward the stairs the led to the quarterdeck. She followed eagerly, curious. The view of the bay was spectacular. Tears stung her eyes as she took it in; she blinked them away. The air smelled strongly of salt; she closed her eyes and sighed.

Killian shrugged out of his heavy coat, dropping it on the deck. He stood behind his princess, wrapping his arms around her waist. She hummed in pleasure, leaning back against him. “One day very soon,” he murmured in her ear, “we’re going to take this old girl out. We’ll sail anywhere you want to go. Would you like that?”

She nodded. She could see it in her mind’s eye, Killian at the helm, she at his side. Little Liam in her arms, taking it all in. The image changed as she relaxed, Liam older now, running happily around the deck, Mr. Smee chasing him. Emma laughing while Killian stood there with a proud smile on his face. Yes, they could still have adventures. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

Slowly, she turned in her husband’s arms. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she silenced him with a kiss. Her fingers curled around his vest, tugging him closer. He obeyed automatically, backing her into the wheel. She groaned as she hit it, but not from pain. Excitement slithered down her spine; Killian crowded her, pinning her between his body and the wheel. The center of it poked her in the back, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he kissed her.

“Emma,” he breathed, hand and hook sliding up and down her sides.

“This is very familiar, Captain.” She kissed him again, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Aye.” He loosened the buttons of her vest, his lips trailing down her neck. How many times had he fantasized about having her in this very place? But they were still in full view of the castle. “Would you like to join me in the Captain’s quarters, Princess?”

“Very much.”

Killian abandoned his coat, hurrying them down to the hatch that led to their quarters. Emma pounced the moment her boots hit the floor, dragging him to her by his necklace. He kissed her roughly, his hook pressing into the soft globe of her ass. “Bloody hell, darling.”

“Need you,” she murmured between kisses. “So much.”

He ducked and hoisted her up, carrying her to the narrow bunk. Emma wound her legs around his waist, holding him to her as they kissed hungrily. Hands wandered, peeling off clothes, stroking skin. Emma arched as his lips found her nipples once more, sucking lightly. “Fuck,” she gasped.

“Like this?”

She nodded, fisting his hair. “Gods, yes.”

“Lay back, Princess.”

With a whine, she did as he asked. Killian uncurled her legs from his waist, then yanked off her boots and trousers. His hook curled around the edge of her underwear, snapping it easily when he tugged. Emma moaned, her hands cupping her aching breasts. She parted her thighs, the cool air of the room hitting her wet swollen flesh.

“So wanton for me,” Killian purred, dragging his hook through her sopping sex. She was wet and eager for him, more than ready for his cock. The sight of the metal touching her made his cock twitch; it had been far too long since he’d enjoyed her like this. She braced her feet against the edge of the bunk, using it as leverage to grind against the metal.

Emma wet her lips, past caring what this looked like. She’d forgotten how arousing it was for him to touch her with his hook. “So good, _fuck.”_

He could watch her like this for hours, but their time was short. He pressed his thumb to her clit, earning him a shudder. “Be a good girl and come for me,” he growled. “Then I’ll give you what you really want.”

She mewled, pinching her nipples as she tried to obey. He circled her clit firmly, still rubbing her with his hook. The wave rose higher and higher and higher; she struggled to _breathe_ , her focus solely on her impending orgasm. Stars popped behind her eyes, pleasure crashing through her. Killian dropped to his knees, mouth hot on her sex, lapping at her release. She screamed, reaching for him, holding him in place. _“Yes, yes, yes!”_

He hummed against her, reveling in the taste of her on his tongue. Her flavor had changed somewhat since becoming a mother, but he was still addicted. He tongued her until she climaxed a second time, her fingers pulling _hard_ on his hair as filthy curses tumbled from her lips. His fierce, insatiable Princess.

“Fucking hell,” he swore, forcing himself to stand. His cock strained against the laces of his pants; he groaned as he quickly freed himself. “Need you so much, darling. Please.”

She could still hardly breathe, but she needed to feel him moving inside her. Emma forced herself up, turning over, so she was on her hands and knees. She spread her knees wide, arching her back invitingly. “Fuck me, Killian,” she demanded. “Fuck me!”

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing her hips and lining himself up. The bunk placed at her the perfect height; he sank balls deep inside her with one stroke. She moaned in pleasure, loving the way he filled her. Her doubts about her body melted away when he was inside her, loving her. He pulled out slowly, letting her feel every inch of him before slamming back in. She screamed, his roughness so right. “More, more!”

He obliged her, fucking her with rough hard strokes that had them both seeing stars. He’d never felt like this with anyone, only _her._ He knew he would never have enough; she was perfect. “Mine,” he snarled, slamming into her again. “Mine!”

“Yes, yes!” She moved her hips in time with his thrusts, needing to feel everything he did to her. Suddenly, there was a crack, flesh on flesh; Emma trembled with pleasure. She fell down on her elbows, inadvertently pushing her ass up, silencing begging him to spank her again. And again. And again. Her skin burned with the blows; her core flushed with heat, the ball of need in her belly winding tighter and tighter. They came almost simultaneously, her fluttering walls dragging every last drop of his release from his cock. She _felt_ him spasming within her, the hot spurts of his seed making her quiver with aftershocks.

Killian sagged over her back, panting, every inch of him drowning in pleasure. He hadn’t expected this when he brought them to the _Jolly_ , but he wasn’t going to complain. And Rosalind had said he needed to be there for Emma in any way she needed. If she needed this, then he would give it to her. He’d give her anything she needed. He pressed a series of tender kisses to her damp back, telling her without words how much he adored her.

“Hmmm.”

Killian chuckled, finally moving so she could find a more comfortable position on the narrow bunk. She stretched out over the pallet like a cat, utterly sated. She barely moved when Killian cleaned her up, or when he sidled into the bunk beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, his lips reverently caressed her ear. “Sleepy, darling?”

She nodded. “A little.”

He’d made her come five times in the last few hours; of course, she was tired. “We can’t linger long I’m afraid.” Liam would surely need to be fed soon; Emma would never trust anyone else to look after her son.

She snuggled into his chest. “I know.”

He drew his hand over her hip, firmer than he remembered. All the training she’d been doing lately? He didn’t quite understand her new hobby, but if it made her happy, then who was he to argue? “I’ll have Smee start prepping the ship for a shakedown cruise,” he murmured. That would be an excellent prelude to a longer voyage. “It’s time.”

She perked up. “Really?”

“Aye. It’ll do us both some good, I think.”

“I really do want to bring Liam out here. I think he’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” Ever since he discovered they were having a son, Killian longed to share his love of the sea with him. He rarely spoke of it, since it felt selfish of him. His son had dueling origins, pirate and prince; it would be his choice which kind of man he wanted to be. Would he be ashamed of his father’s origins and past? There was no way to know.

Emma saw her husband’s face grow pensive. “What are you thinking?”

He glanced away. “I just wonder how our son will react when he finds out his father is a pirate.”

Emma touched his face. “Killian, Liam adores you. Finding out your past won’t change that. He’ll love you, just as I love you.”

“I just don’t want him to be ashamed of me.”

“My poor Killian.” She drew his lips to hers, kissing him reverently. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who still harbored some doubts about parenthood. Oddly, it made her feel a bit better. “We’ll just do the best we can, okay? Together.”

He nodded. “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you too.”

They lingered for a few moments more, then they had to go. Killian helped Emma dress, then they walked hand in hand back to the castle. Emma was sorry to leave the ship, but they would be back soon. Killian promised. They found Liam with his grandmother, who was reading to him from Emma’s rocking chair. He perked up when he saw his mother and Emma smiled. She’d missed him. “Look, Liam,” Snow said. “Mama’s here!”

Emma bent, taking the baby from her mother. “How was he?”

“He fussed a little at first, but he’s such a good boy! Aren’t you, Liam?” Snow kissed her grandson’s downy head. “How was your walk?”

Emma flushed, but smiled. “Good. It was nice to get out for a little bit. Thanks for looking after him, Mama.”

“Any time, Emma, you know that.” Snow was a little worried about her daughter, but Emma seemed much better than she had just that morning. Perhaps she was worrying for nothing.

Liam started to fuss almost as soon as his grandmother left. Emma moved automatically, exposing her breast so Liam could feed. She held him close as she settled in the rocking chair her mother had just vacated. “Were you good for Grandmama, Liam?” she cooed. Liam looked up at her with those blue eyes, so like Killian’s, and her heart swelled. She loved her son so much! How could she want a world where he didn’t exist?

Killian found one of his favorite books and settled by Emma’s feet to read. It was one of their rituals, one they both took comfort in. Once Liam was done feeding, Emma ran her fingers through Killian’s hair. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Sure.” He stood and laid the book aside. Carefully, he took Liam from Emma’s arms, settling his son the crook of his arm. He looked down at the tiny face; Liam looked so much like himself, with whispy dark hair and his blue eyes. But he saw Emma too, with the tiny dent in the chin, the shape of the nose. Liam was growing fast! He kissed his son’s forehead. “Papa loves you very much, little one.”

Liam gurgled and smiled, waving his hands. Killian chuckled and glanced at Emma. She was smiling tiredly at the pair of them. “Tired, love?”

“Yeah, I might take a nap.”

“Okay. We’ll be fine, won’t we, lad?”

Emma stood, brushing a kiss to her son’s head, then Killian ducked to kiss her as well. “Thanks, Killian.”

While Emma slept, Killian took his son into the sitting room of their apartment. He and Liam played on the floor in front of the fireplace until Liam dropped off into a nap of his own. Killian stretched out on the repaired couch, resting his son on his chest, still fast asleep. It wasn’t long until Killian dropped off to sleep himself.

 

* * *

 

Emma felt refreshed when she woke up. She actually smiled as she stretched, happy until she realized she was alone in the bed. She felt a pang until she remembered the Killian was with Liam. She crawled out of the bed, curious that she couldn’t hear them. She tiptoed into the nursery, but her husband and son were nowhere to be found. Where could they be?

She found her answer quickly. Father and son slept on the velvet couch, looking peaceful and so very cute! She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. This was image that made all her struggles worth it. She wanted everything that it represented. Love, family, motherhood. Her struggle seemed to be how to forge that image with the adventure she still craved.

She would find a way.

Killian groaned, blinking his eyes open. He found Emma standing over him, her face happy. “’Lo, love.”

“Sleep well?”

“Aye, you?”

“Yeah.” She got down on her knees, brushing a kiss to his lips. “Missed you though.”

He rested his arm against her lower back. “How do you feel?”

She was going to get tired of being constantly asked that, but she knew he meant well. “Still good. It’s nice to know I’m not crazy.”

“You were never crazy, darling. Just hurting and confused. But I’m going to help, in any way I can. I swear to you.”

“I know. You already are. I can’t thank you enough for suggesting we go see Rosalind.”

“Anything you need, lass. Just say the word. It’s yours.”

“You already do so much. You’re a wonderful father and husband. Please don’t doubt that, even if I’m not doing so well. It’s not your fault.”

“I did bed a royal princess with little to no thought to the consequences,” he reminded her.

“Because I begged you. I don’t regret a single thing. Not ever. Just promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“That you’ll remind me of that the next bad day I have.”

“I will, love.”

Liam woke up not long after; Emma changed and fed him while Killian saw to their dinner. They agreed to eat in the privacy of their rooms; Emma wanted to enjoy some quiet time with her family. Especially after the events of the previous day. She wanted to cuddle her son and sit by the fire with the man she loved.

Speaking of the fire…she waved her hand over the fireplace; it lit up instantly. She stared at it for a while, curious. Could her flickering magic be linked to her condition? She desperately wanted to ask Tinkerbelle, but she hadn’t seen her friend for some time. She’d sent several messages, but all she got in return was increasingly annoyed messages from the Blue Fairy, saying that Tink was busy. Busy with what, Blue didn’t say.

Was there something going on? It wasn’t _completely_ out of the realm of possibility for them to be keeping something from her. Blue kept her magic a secret from her for years. She hated even thinking it, but what choice did she have? Until she could talk to Tink, she had no way to know.

Determined, Emma moved to her writing desk, her son on her hip. She found a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill. “Shhh,” she soothed, her son squirming a little in her lap. “Let Mama write her letter, Liam.” She found him an unused quill to play with, which kept him occupied. She thought for a few moments, then started to write.

_Tink,_

_Is everything alright? I’ve been trying to reach you, but I don’t know if you’ve been getting my letters. I really need to talk to you. I think there’s something going on with my magic. Nothing dangerous, so far. But it’s been acting strangely and I’m not sure why. I was hoping you might be able to help. Could you come to the castle? I would really appreciate it._

_Emma_

After sanding the ink dry, she rolled the scroll carefully and sealed it with wax. Liam looked curious; she smiled and kissed the top of his head. She picked him up and headed for the balcony. She let out a low whistle, summoning one of her mother’s birds.

“What are you up to, love?”

She whirled around. “Oh, I thought I would send a letter to Tink.”

“Another one?”

“Yeah, but I’m doing it right this time. Could you take the baby?” She handed Liam off to his father, then returned her attention to the bird. She placed a spell on the scroll, allowing it to be opened _only_ by Tinkerbelle. Then she carefully tied it to the bird’s leg and sent it off.  “I hope that works.”

“What did you do?”

“Placed a spell on it, so only Tink can read it. I hope.”

“Hope?”

“My magic’s been acting weird, remember? I did manage to light the fire in the fireplace though.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” She was going to need her magic. In the months since she discovered it, she’d come to accept it. Begrudgingly. She still wasn’t sure if she could be the Savior in the prophecy. She didn’t even want to be. But Rumplestiltskin was a threat to everything she loved. He had to be stopped. How? No one had worked that out yet.

Was there a way to do so, and still remain true to herself? Her fear of changing, of using her magic for ill, still plagued her. It was why Queen Elsa so intrigued her. She was fascinated by the idea of someone having magic and still being a good person. It was something she desperately wanted for herself.

“If Tinkerbelle doesn’t come tomorrow, we’ll go to her,” Killian promised as they enjoyed a quiet dinner. “For your piece of mind, if nothing else.”

“Really?” The castle was still warded; they were both starting to chafe at being confined. Neither one of them relished a cage. As comfortable as the castle was, it still felt like a gilded cage.

“Aye. As I said to your father, I won’t have this place as a cage. You’re not a bloody prisoner.”

She smiled at him, so thankful to have him at her side. She knew that everything would be alright, as long as they were together. At least now, they had a plan.


	4. Chapter 4

“Again! You’re holding back, lass!”

Emma threw her husband a scowl, snatching up a nearby tin cup. Precious cool water glided down her throat; she was parched. When Killian first suggested he join her training, she thought it would be fun. He loved watching her fight back when they sailed on the _Jolly._ They often fought side by side or back to back on the deck of some prize; it had never failed to make him hot and bothered. She lost count of the times they tumbled into the captain’s quarters, pawing at each other. Against the door, the desk, the ladder, the bunk, any flat surface would do. He simply had to have her.

She loved him like that, wild and desperate for her.

This wasn’t a Killian she was very familiar with, barking orders at her. And it was her fault. She’d _asked_ him not to go easy on her. To work her just as hard as he would one of his crew. She was serious about this. Emma had never been some damsel in distress; her father started teaching her swordplay from a young age. Of course, that was the way of knights and honor; the man she loved was a pirate. Emma knew how to take care of herself; she was just out of practice. She was learning that practicing with Killian was much more difficult than practicing against some dummy.

“I am _not_ holding back,” she spat, angry at herself because deep down, she thought it might be true. She never hesitated during their time on the high seas. When Killian was injured, she’d effectively taken over the ship, even winning them a prize. But that was before Rumplestiltskin, before she discovered her magic, before she became a mother.

Killian smirked, waving his sword in a circle. “Then prove it, Princess.”

Emma took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on her sword. It was a sword Killian had made specially for her, a true pirate’s cutlass, the hilt inlaid with gold and pearl, the edge sharp. A lighter, more elegant twin of his own. She’d been touched by the gift; there hadn’t even been a special occasion. “You’re going to regret that.”

She brushed a few stray strands or hair away from her wet face, then charged. Their swords kissed at the top of her arc, his longer reach making it harder for her. But she didn’t let it defeat her. She poured all her frustration and fear and upset into her sword arm, swinging, slashing, jabbing. Killian parried everything she threw at him, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Now this is much better!”

She shrieked, spinning on her heel, the cutlass singing as it cut through the air. He ducked her move, deflecting the sword with his hook. “How. Are. You. So. Good?” she screamed. He’d been cooped up in the castle just as long as she had. But he was still annoyingly beautiful. His body still strong and lean and toned, unfairly sexy and driving her crazy. Her feelings about her own body may be confused and upsetting, but gods, did she still want _him._ He was perfect: handsome, athletic, with that roguish charm that called to something deep inside her. She’d thought him beautiful the very first time she laid on him.

Killian did a quarter turn of his own and swung for her head. She parried, forcing the point of the sword to the ground. For a moment. His blue eyes blazed; her body throbbed in response. Suddenly, they were back on the deck of some merchant ship, barely able to keep their hands to themselves. God, she wanted him! “Now that your father and I are bosom friends, I’ve got a decent sparring partner,” he replied, dancing away from her again. “He taught you well.”

Her father! That was just unfair! She spent the first six months of her son’s life tending him! She didn’t have the time or energy to train! “Don’t patronize me, pirate.”

“Now why would I do that, princess?” He set his jaw, deliberating mounting his next attack on her left side. Her weaker side, as she was right handed. Emma might have thought she was out of practice, but he’d never seen her more glorious. He was driving her hard, because he knew she needed it. She needed to feel like she was still that fiery incredible woman he fell in love with. Somehow, they had never actually sparred before, not like this; now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Emma raised her sword just in time, her arm jolted with the force of the blow. It was probably crazy, but her heart sang with joy! There was her pirate! Killian had once been afraid to allow her to see his true self; he thought she would fear the pirate, a man accustomed to violence and unsavory deeds. But she didn’t fear him. Not even watching him punish the traitor who tried to rape and abduct her swayed her. She loved her sweet tender Killian and she loved the fierce pirate. They were the same man. They were both _hers._

“Nice of you to show up, pirate,” she spat. “I was starting to think you’d gone soft.” She was taunting him on purpose; her lover was anything _but_ soft. She wasn’t done with him yet, not in the slightest.

Killian growled dangerously. “Be careful what you wish for, princess.”

They were several feet apart now, both breathing hard, covered in sweat. Killian had long since lost his coat and vest; his thin blank shirt clung to his skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed; Emma wanted to run her tongue over his throat, taste the salty sweetness. The look in his eyes was dark, dangerous, predatory. She _loved_ it, her body responding, nipples stiff and aching, her core throbbing with need. “Oh, I definitely wish, pirate.” She didn’t know when this had become a game, but she wasn’t complaining.

“Have it your way.” He shrugged, pretending he didn’t care. Oh, but he did. He ached for her. He would make her scream his name before they were through. More than once, if he could manage it. If she wanted Captain Hook, then that was what she would get.

Emma was so distracted by his beauty that she allowed her defenses to drop. She raised the sword again, just in time, then spun away from him. It was exhilarating, fighting someone she knew so well. In another situation, it could be deadly, but Emma knew without a doubt that he would never hurt her. It was freeing in a way she didn’t expect. The next time she spun, she kicked her leg out, catching the back of his knee. She’d watched Killian do it a hundred times but had never tried it herself. He fell, crying out. Emma pointed her sword at his throat triumphantly. “Do you yield, pirate?”

He smirked. “Never.” His hook curled into the tail of her shirt and dragged her down with him, her sword skittering away. He tried to get up, but she tackled him, rolling around with him in the straw. His height and weight eventually won out, his body settling between her thighs. Emma bit back a moan; she could already feel how hard he was. And in case she missed it, he thrust roughly against her core. “Now where did you learn that little trick, princess?”

She stared up at him unapologetic. “A pirate.”

“Is that so? Have a taste for pirates, love?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” But her hands were already sliding down his damp shirt, stroking the muscles that taunted her so.

He gave her his most devilish grin; it made her insides boil with lust. “You’ll forget aught but me, lass. I promise you.”

She wet her lips, flagrantly grinding her hips against his still clothed cock. “Prove it.”

Just like that he was kissing her. Emma mewled, her fingers sliding into his hair, very, very willing. She felt like she was ablaze and only he could ease the ache inside her. His shirt was the first to go, the damp fabric tossed carelessly aside. Emma raked her blunt nails down his back; Killian groaned in pleasure. His lips attacked her throat, deliberating nibbling and sucking until the skin was red and bruised. He was marking her, reminding her that she would always be his.

Emma keened, her hips rocking wantonly against his. “Oh gods.”

“No gods here, love. Just me.” Emma’s core throbbed again as his hand and hook tore her shirt in two, revealing the cloth she used to bind her breasts while she trained. He growled, frustrated. “Off. Now.”

Emma shivered, need and desperation rolling through her as he rolled off her. She was about to call him back when she saw what he was doing: fetching his coat. He spread it out on the straw, making a place for her to lie. She crawled to it, shucking her ruined shirt, then slowly unwinding the cloth. About halfway revealed the stain; she moaned as the pressure was released on her chest. Her breasts were still about as large as they’d become during her pregnancy; she knew Killian loved it. She’d always enjoyed having her breasts sucked and played with; even more so now. Before she could speak, he was on her again, pressing her into his coat. The ground wasn’t very comfortable, but neither cared. Their desire for each other was too great. Emma keened as he stroked the taut peak of her nipple with his hook; the metal was cool on her skin. Her back arched as he kissed down her sternum, but she was so empty. She needed to be full. “Are you just going to tease me, pirate? Don’t you want to fuck the princess?”

“Such language,” he scolded. “We might have to do something about that mouth.” They’d ordered the armory and training ground cleared for the afternoon; no one was going to bother them. If he wanted her naked and on her knees for him, he could. He quickly stripped her of her remaining clothes; he was pleased she didn’t try to hide herself this time. His wild wanton princess was back, skin flushed, arousal filling his nose. “On your knees for the captain.” When she hesitated, he flashed his hook. _“Now.”_

A flush of want rolled through her. They’d been quietly indulging in her little pirate fantasies a lot recently, but she craved it. At night, he was her sweet adoring Killian, loving her with his body in their huge bed. Right now, he was her devilish pirate captain, come to ruin her for other men. Gods, she loved him so much!

Emma obeyed, kneeling in front of him. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid; some tendrils were already loose. She brushed them back before she bent over him, plucking open the laces of his leather trousers. “There’s a good lass,” he praised. “Are you hot and slick for me, princess? Do you need a good ravishing?”

She squirmed, her clit throbbing. She needed it alright. She needed him, needed him like she needed air to breathe. Yet, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer, so she continued her task, biting her lip as she pulled him out. She couldn’t help the needy whimper that tumbled from her lips; he was so beautiful. She’d not given the male form much thought before she met him—she’d kissed exactly one boy before him—but there was no other word for Killian Jones. He was _beautiful._ Every muscle chiseled to perfection, his chest and stomach covered in wiry hair leading down to his gorgeous cock. He was uncut, long and thick; the first time she ever saw him, she wondered how he would fit. Now she knew. He was made for her. Made to fill her up, bring her to orgasm over and over until she was begging, pleading for more.

He was so perfect, she wanted to weep.

Killian let out a strangled groan as she started to stroke him, both of her small hands wrapped around his length, using just the right amount of force. He sometimes feared his baser instincts, the pure need he had for her, but she was always right there with him, begging, pleading for him to mark her as his. “Show me,” he growled, needing to know she was as desperate as he. “Show me how wet you are, my naughty princess.”

Emma bit her lip, leaning back slightly on her haunches. She spread her knees, exposing her swollen aching core to the air. She shivered under his penetrating gaze, the lazy way he took himself in hand as he waited for her to obey him. Parting her lower lips with one hand, she dipped the fingers of the other between her legs, deftly circling her sensitive clit. “Oh gods. I’m so wet,” she murmured. “It’s dripping down my fingers. Fuck.”

It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to pounce on her and fuck her silly. She would no doubt enjoy that, but then their play would be over far too soon. He snatched for her wet fingers with his hook, curling it around her wrist and bringing them to his lips. He licked her skin clean, savoring the taste of her arousal. “Delicious.”

Emma wet her lips, wishing his mouth was somewhere else instead. He seemed to sense her thoughts because the next thing she knew he was on his back and ordering her to straddle his face. She did so happily, choking back as moan as his cock rested in front of her. She wanted him in her mouth; gods, she wanted him everywhere. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this aroused and hungry. His hand and brace pressed into her now firm hips, dragging her to his talented mouth. She keened as he lapped at the length of her sex; she had to brace her hands on his stomach to stay upright. Instinctively, she tried to grind, but he held her firmly. “More,” she panted, nails scratching his taut belly. “Fuck, more!”

She should have been more careful about what she wished for because he seemed to be intent on wringing every drop of pleasure he could from her. He wound her up so tightly, over and over again, then stop, leaving her writhing above him in frustration. His tongue was wicked, curling around her clit, plunging into her fluttering heat, lapping at all she had to offer. It was frustrating and intoxicating all t once; this was the man she knew when they first became lovers, the man who could not get enough of her body, the man who brought her endless hours of pleasure. There had been days where they never left the captain’s quarters; the crew quickly grew accustomed to Emma’s screams of ecstasy.

She was the luckiest woman in all the realms.

His cock taunted her. Long and thick, laying proudly on his belly, the tip beading with precum. On a whim, she bent over and licked, moaning at the salty tang on her tongue. Once she had a taste, she couldn’t stop; she lavished him with attention, short licks, long licks, her hand fondling his balls. He moaned under her, the vibration right against her clit. As he got lost in the pleasure, his mouth stilled on her sex; she adjusted herself, raising her hips higher in the air so she could get a better angle to take him into her mouth. He bucked as she took him deep, swallowing as he brushed the back of her throat. Gods, she’d missed doing this for him. Her core clenched with need, but she kept going, eager to make his every bit as wrecked as he did her.

Killian’s eyes rolled back in his head; she was killing him slowly. His lover had always had a talented mouth, but this was different. New somehow and exciting. He caught a glimpse of her swollen sex; she was soaked, a fat bead of arousal threatening to drip onto his skin. He reached up with his thumb, smearing it over her delectable flesh. To his satisfaction, she moaned around him. He didn’t stop touching her, rubbing her clit, dipping first one finger then two into her sex. She squirmed, the tease nowhere near enough. “Don’t stop,” he growled, watching as she started to fuck his fingers with little thrusts of her hips. “Keep sucking me, princess. Such a hot mouth.”

She whined but did as he asked. He had her hovering on the edge again, keeping her there, never letting her fall. Her bobs grew more and more erratic, her need to be filled stealing her reason. Just when she thought she could take no more, he grabbed her, rolling her so their positions were switched. Before she could fully comprehend the change, he was in her, taking her with deep hard strokes. Emma climaxed almost instantly, her body wound too tightly for too long. Her scream of pleasure was everything. Killian grit his teeth as he rode her through the intense orgasm; he wasn’t through with her yet.

“Love this cunt,” he growled in her ear, slowing his hips, simply savoring the feel of her. “So wet and hot for me. All mine, princess. _Mine.”_

She moaned and arched; she could feel every inch of him like this. “Don’t fucking stop,” she panted, raising her hips to meet him. “Feels so good in me, pirate.”

“Fucking perfect. That’s what you are.” He drew her hands over her head, dropping his head so he could see himself sliding in and out of her. Her slickness coated his cock, their bodies in sync.

Emma clenched around him, pleased when he moaned loudly. She could still do that! She could still make him crazy! His thrusts became rougher, sharper; she moaned in approval, another orgasm curling in her belly. “Again,” she panted, squeezing him. “Make me come again, pirate.”

“Fucking minx,” he cursed. To her surprise, he pulled out and roughly twisted her hips. Emma wondered what he was up to, then he was throwing her leg over his shoulder and plunging back into her. She cried out, clawing at his coat for purchase, the pleasure building again rapidly. The new angle felt amazing, his cock hitting her just right. Her second climax came on in a rush, her mouth open in a silent cry, her body trembling. Killian followed almost immediately, her name on his lips as he shuddered and spilled himself within her.

Spent, Killian slipped from her and collapsed by her side on the coat. It wasn’t quite big enough for them both, but they’d made due with tight quarters more times than he could count. His favorite place to be was curled up at her side, skin to skin, listening to her slowing heart after a round of lovemaking. He hadn’t expected this when she asked him to train with her, but he wasn’t about to complain. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his warrior princess, his pirate queen. She was so much more now; there were times he still felt unworthy of her. But he would never, ever let her go.

Emma curled into his side, exhausted and happy. This was definitely a good day. She pressed sweet kisses into his chest and neck, everywhere she could reach, showing him how much she adored him.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmmm?”

“You are utterly magnificent.”

Warmth flowed through her. She loved him so much. “That was…unexpected but…” She looked up at him with those green eyes, clear and bright. He saw _his_ Emma there, not the frightened woman she’d hidden from him. “Thank you. I missed us so, so much.”

He nodded. “As did I.” He stroked her arm. “I’m sure you will tire of hearing this, but I am so sorry, my love. You were hurting and failed to keep my promise. I’m doing everything I can to make it up to you.”

“Tomorrow could be a bad day,” she reminded him. As good as she felt, she dared not hope that she was cured. Rosalind told her it would take time.

“I don’t care. I love you, Emma, just as you are.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. She and little Liam were the most important things in his world. He would be lost without her. He knew what it felt like to believe her lost; he had no intention of leaving her side again.

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She would not cry. She was done crying, done feeling weak. Instead, she kissed him, slow, languid, sinful strokes of lips and tongue, a kiss she felt all the way to her toes. “My pirate.”

“Always.” They remained there, quietly drinking each other in, as in days of old, each marveling that they could have found one another. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the room grew dimmer, the ground more uncomfortable. Emma ached in ways she hadn’t in months; she wanted a long hot bath and long sleep. As they dressed, Emma had to wrap herself in Killian’s heavy coat; her shirt was ruined. Killian returned their swords to the armory, then offered his arm to lead her upstairs. She leaned on him as they walked to their suite, basking in the pleasant memory.

A stranger was waiting outside their apartment. A servant judging by his clothes. But he leaned casually against door, more interested in the deck of cards in his hand than his surroundings. Killian cleared his throat. The man didn’t move. He was shorter than Killian, but not by much. Brown hair cropped short, brown eyes a bit shifty. Finally, Killian lost patience. “Mind getting out of the way, mate?”

The other man snapped to attention, hastily putting the hand with the cards behind his back. “Captain! Sir!”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Ah, Will Scarlett, sir. The Queen sent me to be your new valet.” Will couldn’t have looked _less_ like a valet if he tried. What was Snow playing at? How many times did Killian protest that he didn’t _need_ a bloody valet?

“I’ve never seen you before,” Emma said, a little suspicious.

Will’s eyes widened when he realized the Crown Princess was only partly dressed, quickly turning his gaze to the floor. _Good,_ Killian thought. He didn’t need anyone ogling his wife. “I’ve not been here long, yer highness. Visitin’ a friend, really. But I wanted ta earn my keep while I was here.”

She couldn’t place his accent; it wasn’t smooth like Killian’s. “Who’s your friend?”

“Alice? Works with the seamstresses.”

Emma relaxed a little. She knew Alice. Not well, but she was a good sort. “I know Alice. She helped make my wedding dress.”

Killian cocked his head but said nothing. “Do you always loiter, Scarlett?”

Will seemed to realize (at last) that he was blocking the entrance. He hopped aside. “Apologies, Captain. The Queen suggested I wait for you since you, ah, ‘have a habit of biting people’s heads off.’ Her exact words, sir.”

Just because he didn’t want help…Killian sighed, deciding to leave it alone. It wasn’t worth arguing over now. Emma was tired; he wanted her to bathe, check in on Liam and sleep. “At least go be useful,” he said at last. “Hot water, copper tub, soap, a bit to eat. Can you manage that?”

“Aye, I can.” With that, Will Scarlett hurried off.

Killian shook his head as they entered the suite. “Does your mother believe me helpless?” he grouched.

Emma waved her hand to light the fire; nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again. What was going on? And where was Tinkerbelle? Emma hoped her friend would have been there first thing in the morning, but that hadn’t happened. Her first thought was to do as Killian said and simply go find her, but her parents disagreed. It wasn’t safe. Rumplestiltskin was still out there. They got into a heated argument about it, but Emma didn’t dare tell them the real reason she needed to see her friend. She was afraid they would be afraid of _her._

“Emma?”

She held up her hands. “My magic again.” She’d been feeling so happy—if tired—a moment ago. Now the doubt started to creep in once more.

Killian hurried over to her, bringing her folded hands to his chest. He wasn’t afraid of her magic or of her. They would get to the bottom of this, even if he had to march into the fairies’ domain himself. “Breathe, darling. It’ll be alright.”

“How do you know?”

He ducked and brushed his mouth over hers. “Because you are the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

She threw her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. She hated doubting herself or being scared. She simply wanted to enjoy her life with her husband and son. Killian’s support meant everything to her.

He kissed the crown of her head. He wondered now if their sparring session had been a distraction from the quarrel with her parents. He understood their reluctance—even their fear—but it was too much. It was suffocating Emma. She yearned to be free, to find her own way. It was one of the things they shared. He recognized it in her their very first night together. It was what made him offer her a place on his ship. He was so disappointed and hurt when she didn’t arrive; he had no way of knowing she’d been detained by the arrival of the Dark One and his son. The courage she showed in fleeing, in finding him…was it any wonder they were soulmates?

He would do anything it took to make her happy. “Smee says the _Jolly_ ’s ready,” he murmured. “We can go tomorrow, if you like.” Let her parents try to stop them.

She looked so hopeful; it broke his heart. “Really?”

“Yes, really. And if Tink doesn’t bloody arrive by this evening, I’m marching over there myself.”

“Killian…”

“This has gone on long enough. Something’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?”

Both turned at the sound of the unexpected—but not unwelcome—voice. “Tink!” Emma cried. She scooted around Killian and hugged her friend. Tink seemed a little taken aback but returned the embrace. “I’m so relieved to see you. I was starting to worry.”

Tink frowned. “I got your message. What’s happening with your magic, Emma?”

Killian wanted answers. Emma had been worried sick for days about her magic and Tinkerbelle had been nowhere to be found. “Care to tell us what you’ve been up to, fairy? You’ve been a bloody lousy mentor, if you ask me.”

“What are you talking about?” Tink crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Killian. She didn’t like his tone.

“I’ve been writing to you for days,” Emma said, nibbling on her lip. “Haven’t you been getting any of my letters?”

Tink’s brow furrowed. “Is that why you bewitched this one?” She took the scroll and unraveled it, scanning the words again. “Emma, this is the first letter I’ve received from you in weeks.”

Emma shook her head. “I know I sent them. Blue said you would come by as your duties allowed. I wondered if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Killian was surprised by the anger in the fairy’s face; for a moment, he thought it was directed at Emma and moved to place himself between Tink and Emma. But Tinkerbelle crumpled the scroll in her tiny hands. “The gall! Oh, I am so mad!” Tink kicked at the rug, a halo of fairy magic lighting up the air around her.

“Tink?”

“Sorry, Emma. I am so sorry. I swear, I never got any letters from you. If I had I would have been here right away.”

Emma sighed in relief. She had a knack for knowing when people were lying and Tink spoke nothing but truth. The two women hugged again, and Killian tried to put his anger aside. He’d been there several times, listening to the Blue Fairy’s explanations for Tinkerbelle’s absence. He wondered why his in laws and others placed so much trust in her, but he didn’t want to get involved in all the machinations. Like the Grand Alliance. It was supposed to take on the Dark One, but so far, all they’d done was talk.

It was maddening.

Emma and Tink settled on the nearby couch, Killian in the arm chair. “Now, Emma, tell me exactly what’s been happening with your magic? You said it’s not dangerous?”

“Not so far. It’s just been acting…strange.” A knock interrupted her. Greta entered, Liam in her arms. Tink didn’t miss the way Emma’s face lit up around her son. She was surprised by how big he was! Emma stood, taking her son into her arms. “How’s my little pirate?” she asked. “Were you good for Grandmama and Greta?”

“He was an angel, Highness,” Greta said. “Just missing his mother.”

Emma touched her son’s head; his hair was so soft. It was starting to curl a bit, like hers. “Mama missed you too, love.” She smiled at him, then Killian. He stood and peered down at the bundle in her arms. “See, Liam? Papa’s here.”

Liam smiled back at them, kicking and waving his fists. “Did you see that, Emma?”

She grinned. “I did. Told you.”

Tink couldn’t stop smiling. They were such a perfect little family. This was why she loved being a fairy. Seeing people she loved so happy made everything worth it. “May I hold him?”

Emma nodded. “Sure.” Carefully, she handed her son to Tink. The fairy wrinkled her nose, making a funny face for him. At first, Liam didn’t know what to make of her, but then he laughed. Tink gasped; she’d never heard a baby laugh!

“Did I do that?”

“You surely did, love. He likes you.”

Tink beamed. “He’s adorable, Emma.”

“Thanks.” Emma felt a little ashamed of herself; would Tinkerbelle think she was a terrible person for some of the things she’d felt over the last few months? She understood now that she was sick, but did that really excuse it?

“Emma, what’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath; Killian nodded encouragingly. “My magic hasn’t been the only thing acting strangely. I’ve not really been myself since Liam was born. I thought I was going crazy. Some days are good, really good.” She touched her son’s cheek. “I love him, I love being his mother. But then there are times when I’m upset for no reason. I feel trapped, I miss our life on the _Jolly._ I wonder how I can be this mystical Savior you all seem to think I am.”

Tink reached out, covering one of Emma’s hands with hers. “I am so sorry, Emma.”

“I lashed out at Killian the other day.”

Tink blinked. “What happened?”

“The little lad was sick,” Killian murmured, kneeling in front of the fairy. He stroked his son’s head. “For three days, nothing could soothe him. Emma was exhausted, more tired than I’ve ever seen her. Finally, I visited the apothecary in the village to see if they had something for him. When I returned, Emma was nearly hysterical.”

“I almost attacked him with magic. I never want to be that kind of person, Tink.”

Killian slipped his hand into Emma’s. “You’re not, Princess. I know you would never hurt me. Or Liam.”

She smiled gratefully, then continued. “But my magic had been acting up before that. Like just now. I tried to light the fire, and nothing happened.” She described some of the other instances where her magic wasn’t quite right. Spells she’d done hundreds of times either not working or backfiring in ways she didn’t expect. It was frustrating and frightening, because she didn’t understand what was happening.

“Was it acting up before Liam was born?”

Emma shook her head. “No. And I didn’t notice it until a few weeks after he was born. Tired and preoccupied, I guess.”

“How often does this happen?”

Emma shrugged. “Often enough that I’m scared. What if I hurt Killian? Or Liam?”

Tink shook her head. “I agree with Killian. You would never hurt someone you loved. Your magic comes from your ability to love, Emma. True Love.”

“We visited Rosalind yesterday. The midwife who delivered Liam,” she explained when Tink looked confused. “She says I’m not the first new mother to feel like this.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Just that I need time. But it’s nice to know that there’s something wrong with me.” Emma looked at Tink. “Do you think the two might be connected?”

“Could you take the baby, Killian?” He did so quickly and Tink stood. “Given the foundation of your powers, it would make sense. Let’s try some spells and see what happens?”

Emma wasn’t so sure. “It happens when I least expect it, Tink. I don’t think I can control it.”

“Try, Emma. If I can see what we’re dealing with, then I can do some research.” She’d gotten into Blue’s private library once; she could do it again. If Blue had been trying to keep the friends apart, then TInk had something to say about that. But her first priority was helping her friend.

So they practiced. Killian held Liam so he could see his mother wielding her magic; he wanted his son to know Emma was special. Liam might even be magical himself; he was too young to know for sure. One thing was certain, they would never keep his true nature from him.

By the time they finished, Emma was very tired. She barely had enough energy to climb into the bath Killian’s valet had brought for her. After, she lounged in bed, Killian feeding her morsels of food while she fed their son. Tink departed for the fairies’ caves, promising to return soon.

“Do you think I can do it?” she asked, fighting to stay awake.

“Of course you can. I’d trust her to no one else, love.”

“You’re sweet.”

“It’s true. You’re as connected to the _Jolly_ as I am. You’ll have no trouble.”

“I can’t wait. I miss it so much.”

“As do I.” He kissed her brow. “Sleep as long as you like, darling. Liam and I will be right here.” He didn’t want to make a habit of keeping Liam in their bed, but he thought Emma would like to have him close after her day. Once his wife was asleep, he tiptoed out to make the final arrangements for their outing. They were finally getting away from this bloody castle!

 

* * *

 

“Absolutely not,” David said firmly. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Papa, we’ve had this discussion. Killian and I are going sailing and we’re taking Liam with us.”

“Emma,” Snow said, trying to sound reasonable. “Your father and I…”

“Are keeping me here as a prisoner!”

“Emma, that is not what we’re doing! We just want you to be safe. You and our grandson!”

“And what about me?” Killian snapped.

“Now, Killian…”

He wrapped his arm around Emma’s shoulders. “My wife wants to go sailing, Your Majesties. And I’ll be damned if I let you stop her. Or did you forget that you’re dealing with Captain Hook?” He didn’t like bringing up his moniker, but he was done dancing to their tune. Their precious good intentions were slowly destroying his True Love’s spirit.

The quartet stared at each other for a long moment; Liam squirmed in Emma’s arms. Finally, David and Snow gave way. Emma sighed with relief as they left the castle. She hated fighting with her parents, but what choice did she have? She understood their fear of the Dark One. She felt it herself. She lived in terror that he would suddenly appear and go after Liam. Or Killian. However, she was equally convinced that staying behind stone walls wasn’t the answer. If she was going to face Rumplestiltskin again, then she needed to do so as herself, not some Savior.

Until she found Emma again, she would never be safe.

Killian slipped his hand into hers, keeping her close as they headed toward the docks. Her complicated relationship with her parents was difficult for her. They’d had a hard time accepting her choice to run away, not to mention her falling in love with a notorious pirate. They’d come around considerably in the time since, but Killian always suspected that they held out hope that becoming a mother would put an end to Emma’s innate restlessness.

It was not to be.

“Look, Liam. See Papa’s ship?” Emma asked, jiggling her son on her hip. “We’re gonna go out today, would you like that?” Liam looked all around with wide eyes, trying to take in his new surroundings. Aside from the palace gardens, Liam had never left the castle. It was a bright sunny spring day; the sun felt good on her skin. Liam had a little white cap on his head, paired with a sailor outfit the Alice had made for him. They had Will to thank for that. Killian’s new valet surprised them with it that morning; it was the first time Emma had seen her husband be nice to one of the young men her mother forced on them. She understood his reluctance to accept help; her husband was a very proud man. She loved that about him. But she had hope for this one.

Liam giggled and waved his arms. It warmed her heart. The salt in the air invigorated her; she was smiling. “He certainly seems happy,” she observed to her husband.

“Aye, that he does.” Killian led them up the gangplank; the _Jolly_ ’s small crew snapped to attention. “Carry on,” he ordered with a wave of his hook. “Well be shoving off shortly.”

“Cap’n!” Smee hurried down from the quarterdeck, skidding to a stop in front of Killian. “Everything is as you requested, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smee. We’re just going a little ways out; it’s time to stretch the old girl’s legs.”

“Yes, sir!”

Killian turned to Emma. “Ready, love?”

She handed her son to her husband. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Tinkerbelle had shown her how to ward the ship and cloak it; the only question was: could she do it? With her magic acting crazy, she wasn’t certain she could. But she had to try. She had to get out of this place, even if was only for an afternoon. She walked over to the rail and rested her hands on the enchanted wood. The familiar hum of the old ship comforted her. This was home. This was the place she belonged. She summoned all the memories she and Killian shared, the happiness. Power followed through her, but it didn’t feel malicious or wrong. This was bright and warm; it filled her with joy. Closing her eyes, she willed it to obey her. _Protect us,_ she thought. _Protect Killian. Protect Liam. Protect all who sail with us._

Motion stopped as the crew watched the air seem to shimmer around them. None of them could see it, but the _Jolly Roger_ disappeared from sight, as if she’d never been there. Emma stepped back from the rail, confident that it worked. “All done.”

Killian smiled. “Well done, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her brow. “Would you like to take us out?”

Her green eyes lit up. “Thank you, Captain.”

He chuckled, waving her off. During their travels, Emma had more than acquitted herself. She’d become quite the sailor in her own right. The men listened to her as they would him, which filled him with pride. Killian was quite content to look after Liam while she handled the ship. “Let’s go watch Mama, aye, little lord?” he said, watching his son take all this in. Liam laughed as Killian hoisted him higher, his little feet kicking. Killian pretended it hurt, making a wounded sound, which only made his son laugh more.

“Something funny?” Emma asked as Killian landed on the deck.

“Nothing,” Killian chuckled. “Just giving the little one a tour.”

“Well, this is his home too.” She smiled fondly at them. “Can Mama have a kiss, Liam?”

Killian leaned them over, so Emma could plant a kiss on her son’s cheek. “Now watch, Liam. Mama hasn’t done this in a while. It might go horribly wrong.”

“Nonsense, love.” He brushed a kiss to her temple; she would be fantastic. She always was. The crew followed her shouted direction and slowly the _Jolly Roger_ slipped away from the dock. The sails whipped in the breeze, snapping and cracking; Liam was drawn to the sound. He kept pointing and crying out; at first, Killian thought he was upset, but when he looked at his son’s face, he was happy.

Emma kept her hands on the wheel, holding the ship steady. It had been a while since she’d stood here in this spot. The wood hummed under her fingertips; the wind threatened to pull her hair out of its braid. But she felt good. It felt like a weight had been lifted, one she’d carried for far too long.

This was meant to be a shakedown cruise, so they put the ship through her paces. The crew needed the work too; they’d been idle for too many months. Some of them were green; a few of the ones who’d stuck around had found love in the village. They chose to stay behind, start a new life for themselves. Emma couldn’t fathom staying on one place; it chafed at her. She wasn’t ungrateful for their life in castle, but she wanted more than that. She always had.

“What are you thinking, love?”

“How happy I am that we came out here.”

“Me too, lass.”

Emma locked the wheel; they were a good distance from the castle now. It was a small outcropping from the shore. “Did we come out too far?”

“Emma, we’ll go as far as you need.”

She shook her head. “This is fine for today.” She walked over to where her husband stood, wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you for this.”

“I’ve missed this too, princess. It’s a wee bit selfish of me, you know.”

“And how’s my little sailor doing?” Liam reached for her and she took him, kissing his forehead. He seemed happy, not the least bit disoriented or upset by the swaying of the ship.

“Shall we enjoy our picnic?”

“Sounds good to me.” Since it was such a nice day; no one was in a rush to return. Leaving Smee to mind things, Killian guided his family to the main deck. He shook out a blanket for them to sit on, then dangled a basket playfully from his hook. Emma laughed, happy to see him so carefree. “What did you bring me, Captain?”

“A little of this and a little of that.” He pulled out sandwiches, meats and cheeses, fruit and juice. They let Liam play in one corner of the blanket; he was very interested in his rattle. He kept putting the end in his mouth, gumming at it enthusiastically.

“He’s going to be teething soon,” Emma observed, leaning back on Killian’s chest.

“Aye, walking too.”

“Killian, he hasn’t even started crawling yet!”

“No, but soon. I can feel it coming. He’s a clever one, our boy.”

Good food, warm sunshine, the sea air, her boys with her? What else could Emma want? It was the most she’d felt like herself in months. Deep down, she knew it wouldn’t last. There were still bad days ahead of her. But if they could return to this place, then she could always find her way back.

“Emma, love, look,” Killian whispered.

She was about to doze off—the sway of the ship could make her drowsy if she stayed in one place too long—it took her a moment to figure out what she was supposed to be looking at. Liam lost interest in his rattle; he’d rolled over onto his belly, his feet kicking behind him. He looked like he was concentrating really hard; it was cute. “What do you think he’s doing?”

“Why don’t we wait and see?” Killian couldn’t stop smiling; his son was definitely focusing on something. He’d spotted Liam acting similarly before, hence his confidence that the boy was trying to find his own way of locomotion. It was fascinating, watching as Liam started working things out. After flailing a bit, he figured out how to rise up on his hands and knees, which excited him so much that he promptly fell again. Emma started to reach out, but Killian gently pulled her back. “Let him learn on his own,” he whispered. “He’s alright.”

Emma nodded, fighting the instinct that her baby needed her. It was the same feeling she had the first time they left him in his nursery to sleep by himself. Then, too, Killian had been there, showing her there was nothing to be afraid of. Liam struggled for bit—at one point he nearly burst into tears, making Emma’a heart twist painfully—but then he slowly rose up again. Once he got there, the little boy was a little flummoxed as to what to do next, so Emma leaned forward. “Come to Mama, Liam. You can do it. Come on!”

Liam looked at his mother with those eyes, wide and curious. He swayed on his knees, back and forth, until suddenly he was moving, slowly at first but as he got the hang it, Liam crawled faster until he was in his mother’s arms. “Liam, oh my goodness! Look at you!” She kissed his chubby cheek, happiness threatening to burst out of her chest. “Killian, did you see? He crawled right to me!”

“Aye, love, I saw.” He hugged them both, so proud, he didn’t have words. This was what he’d wanted all his life; now, he finally had it. “Told you our lad was clever.”

She laughed. “So you did.” She put Liam back down, so he could continue exploring. He was still unsteady, but she knew that wouldn’t last. “He’s going to get into so much trouble now.”

“Aye, but are you really surprised?” They specialized in trouble.

Emma turned and placed a gentle kiss to her husband’s lips. “Nope. He is your son, after all.”

“And yours. You get into your fair share of trouble, lass.”

“I do not.”

“Says the princess who ran away from home to chase a pirate.”

“Ugh, fine.” She laid back, resting her head on his chest. “Do you think my parents will be very cross with us?”

“I don’t give a damn what they think, Emma. You’re free to live your own life.”

“They’re not wrong about the Dark One. We don’t know where he is. He could still take my powers.”

Killian shook his head. “My Emma’s too strong to let that monster win.”

“You keep saying that, but I have trouble believing it.”

“You shouldn’t.” He coaxed her to sit up and look at him. “I know it might not feel like it now but think of all the things you’ve done. You ran away from home. You joined a pirate’s crew and made a hell of a pirate.” He smiled, stroking her cheek. “You went to face that monster—alone—not knowing you had magic or anything of the sort. Because you knew it was the right thing to do.”

“But you saved me.”

“Because you braved a hellish place for my sake. Lass, I’ve never been so terrified in my life. When I saw you on that slab…what if my love for you wasn’t enough? What if I couldn’t wake you?”

“But you did,” she said, cupping his cheek. “There is no one for me but you.”

He leaned into her touch. “I don’t like the idea of you facing that monster again, Emma. It kills me. I would take you from here if I could. But we both know that this world would never be safe if he’s not stopped. For Liam’s sake, if nothing else.”

“For _our_ sake,” she amended. “We’re a family.”

“That we are.” Ignoring all the bustle around them, he kissed her, long and slow, smiling as she melted into him. “There’s my girl.”

She laughed. “This is the most I’ve felt like myself in a long time. Thank you.”

“You’ve always been you, Emma. You’re just remembering now, is all.”

She looked from Killian to their son, who had finally worn himself out and fallen asleep right there on the deck. “I never want him to hate me or be afraid of me.”

“He won’t,” Killian replied, echoing her earlier advice to him. “You’re his whole world, love. As you are mine.”

She snuggled into his chest. “Can we stay a while longer?”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

The castle was busier than ever; more and more representatives were arriving for the summit daily. Emma had little patience for it; privately, she was coming around to Killian’s point of view. No one was actually _doing_ anything. As far as anyone knew the Dark One was holed up in his castle, plotting their collective demise. Magic was the best tool to stop him, but no one knew _what_ magic. Emma was supposedly the Savior, but she was still figuring out what that meant.

She hated not knowing.

“Come on, Liam, let’s go see Papa.” Killian was in the library, pouring over maps. He kept talking about going somewhere, but they still didn’t have a destination in mind or the logistics figured out. They certainly hadn’t spoken to her parents about leaving. They’d had a hard enough time with their little excursion into the bay. To leave Misthaven entirely? That was a fight Emma wasn’t ready to have.

She hoisted Liam higher on her hip; he was getting heavy! She smiled fondly at her boy; this was the most still he’d been since he discovered the joys of crawling. For the last week, she and Killian had been chasing him all over their apartment; it was as fun as it was exhausting. She’d definitely been sleeping better, tired out from her son.

Liam was waving at something in the window; Emma wasn’t watching where she was going. Neither was the boulder she ran into. “Ooof.”

“I am so sorry!” The tall blonde man lightly gripped her shoulders, steadying her. “Emma! Are you alright?”

“Kristoff?”

For a man that large, it was adorable to see him so sheepish. “Yeah, sorry. Again. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” She watched as he ducked to pick up something, a scroll. “Reading?”

“A letter from Anna.”

“How is she?”

“Good, I think.”

“You think?”

“I think she’s worried about Elsa, but she won’t come right out and say it.”

A shiver went down Emma’s spine. “Why would she be worried?”

“It’s this trade thing with Weselton. Elsa thinks they’re trying to start a war.”

“A war? Over _trade?_ That’s seems excessive.” Since Evil Queen was destroyed, wars were very rare in the Enchanted Forest.

“Especially since Arendelle doesn’t have a navy to speak of. Frankly, I think the Duke is still smarting from getting banished.”

“Why was he banished?”

Kristoff looked around. “Maybe this isn’t the best place.”

“Killian’s in the library, Liam and I were just going to see him. Care to join us?”

“Sure.”

They found Killian in the library a few minutes later, his brow furrowed in concentration. He lit up when he saw Emma. “Why hello, love. Little one.” Emma stepped around the desk; Killian pressed a kiss to his son’s cheek then hers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We missed you,” she said, handing Liam to his father. “Look who we ran into.”

Killian grinned. “Kristoff. How are you?”

“Alright. Wishing I was home.”

“Aye, this bloody summit can’t start fast enough.”

“Kristoff was just telling me about things in Arendelle.”

“That so? How are our far flung neighbors?” Sandorn aside, Killian was learning how to play the game. He didn’t like it, but he would do it. For Emma. For their son. He was heir to all of this, regardless of how Killian felt about it. It was the price he paid for True Love. And he would do it again. Every time.

He listened as Kristoff explained about Arendelle and its recent troubles with Weselton. It all sounded ridiculous to Killian, but a man’s ego could be easily bruised. Sandorne came to mind. If that bastard so much as looked at Emma funny again…but that was a different battle. “Aye, you’re probably right about the Duke. Strutting popinjays, the lot of them.”

“You’re a prince now, you know,” Emma teased. They’d moved to the couch, with Kristoff in the huge armchair across from them. Liam was on the floor, crawling around the low table, enjoying himself. Emma kept a furtive eye on him, making sure he didn’t hit his head. She brushed her fingers through Killian’s soft hair, looking at him fondly.

“On that we’ll agree to disagree, love.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I have to agree with Killian, Emma. Marrying a princess doesn’t change who we are.”

“I can’t speak for Anna, but royalty’s overrated.”

The men laughed. “You can’t change who you are, lass. Any more than we can.”

“I don’t know about that.” She curled her fingers around Killian’s hook; she didn’t need him to change. She loved him just as he was. She looked at Kristoff. “I know you don’t want to be here, but thanks for coming. It’s good to see a friendly face.”

“Anna’s sorry she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to leave Elsa.”

“I understand.” She said that, but she only sort of did. Emma didn’t have any siblings; it was a bond she’d never experienced. Her mother was an only child as well. Her father had a twin, but he’d never known him. It was a story David didn’t like to tell, so she’d never heard all of it.

They had a nice visit with Kristoff. Emma hadn’t been wrong about seeing a friendly face. She’d been meaning to talk to Kristoff since he arrived; she’d been out of sorts and worried about her magic. They hadn’t seen Tinkerbelle since her visit, but her friend sent notes keeping them apprised of her search. If anyone could figure out what was going on with her magic, it was Tink.

“He’s good lad,” Killian observed that evening after dinner. “Kristoff.”

“Yeah. Anna’s a lucky girl.”

“And you’re not?”

She crawled into his lap; thankfully, Liam was already asleep. “I’m the luckiest,” she replied, leaning in to kiss him. Killian held her close, enjoying the feel of her pressed against him as they kissed. He ran his hand and hook over her lithe form, settling on her hips.

“Emma.”

“Hmm?” She ran her lips over his scruffy jaw and throat, her clever fingers sliding under his open shirt.

“How do you feel?” They’d both been tired the last few days, falling asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows. Emma still slept wearing one of his shirts, but he was content with baby steps.

She smiled. “Not tired at all, love,” she replied, mimicking his accent. Poorly. Not that he cared. He growled and kissed her again, harder this time, his hand and hook sliding up the laces at the back of her dress. She peeled the shirt over his head; he lost patience and ripped her laces. She giggled as he yanked down the bodice of her gown, then gasped as he latched on to her nipple and sucked. She sank her fingers into his hair, her need pooling in her belly. “Oh yes, Killian.”

He groaned, each wiggle of her hips making him crazy. “Missed you.”

“Me too.” She ground harder over his clothed erection, moaning as he rubbed her just right. “Need you.”

“Aye.” He flipped them over, laying her out on the couch. As quickly as he could, he removed her gown, tossing it aside. Gloriously naked, he kissed down her body, spreading her legs wide. Emma keened as he licked her, his lips and tongue wicked on her aching flesh. She had one hand in his hair, the other on the arm of the couch, gripping it tightly as she barreled closer to orgasm. He lapped at her sweetness, fingers dancing over her clit. She came with a cry, bucking against him, taking everything he could give her. Killian didn’t stop, determined to bring her off again before he took her.

“One more, sweet,” he coaxed, gliding a single digit into her heat. “One more for me.”

His lips curled around her clit and she exploded, clamping her hand over her mouth at the last moment to muffle her scream. They couldn’t wake the baby and ruin the moment. Her thighs clamped around her lover’s head, her back arched off the couch as she trembled. “Killian,” she panted. “Killian, please. Please get inside me. _Please!”_

Killian impatiently kicked off his pants, then lowered himself between her legs. They both moaned louder than they should have as he entered her, filling her in a single deep stroke. Emma drew him down to her for a breathless kiss, hanging on as he rode her into the couch. Her heels dug into his lower back, spurring him on. Killian grunted, loving the possession he felt in her touch. How could he be anything but hers?

“Emma, my Emma,” he growled into her skin. “Love you so much.”

“Harder, Killian. Feels so good!”

He obeyed her, holding her to him, hissing as he nails raked once more down his back. She gasped as the angle changed, his cock pounding her most sensitive place over and over until she tumbled over the edge a third time, taking him with her. Killian stilled as his cock spasmed, emptying himself within her warm depths. She clung to him, shivering with pleasure. “My Killian.”

He kissed her sweaty brow. “All yours, my love.” He slowly eased off her, reluctant to leave her warmth, but he didn’t want to squash her. Once his breathing was closer to normal, he cleaned her up and carried her to their bed. “Ready to sleep now, sweetheart?”

“Hmm, not yet.” She wanted to savor the feel of his skin little longer. “I was thinking.”

“Should I be scared?”

She smacked his shoulder. “No, I was thinking about Kristoff.”

He arched a brow at her. “Not something a man wants to hear after making love to his wife, love.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not like _that_.” She kissed his lips. “I’ve already got my pirate.”

“Too right, lass.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “What were you thinking?”

She took a deep breath. “I want to visit Arendelle.”

“I know the queen there intrigues you.”

“Killian, ever since I discovered my powers, I’ve wondered. I’ve been afraid of them. I don’t want to be afraid. I don’t want to turn into Rumplestiltskin or the Evil Queen.”

She’s spoken of these fears before. “Emma, that will never happen. You are too good. In here.” He touched her heart. “But…if it will put your mind at ease, then we’ll go. The _Jolly_ can be prepped for such a voyage, but there are other things to consider.”

“Like what?”

“The lad is still nursing; we’d have to bring him with us.”

She hadn’t thought about that. “Can we?”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever had a wee babe on my ship for more than a few hours, but I think we can find a way to make it work. Perhaps we can discuss it with Tinkerbelle. If this is something you truly want.”

“It is.”

“Your parents will be opposed.”

“I don’t care. I’d rather do this with their support, but it doesn’t matter. I’m the one who ultimately has to face him.”

Killian suppressed a shiver. He despised the idea of his beloved going against that monster. But it was bigger than him. She was bigger than him. All he could do was love her as best he could. “Then it’s settled. We’re going to Arendelle.”


	5. Chapter 4

“Scarlett!” Killian rifled through the crate, searching for his spyglass. He’d have sworn he’d left it there after the short shakedown cruise, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Yes, milord?”

Killian growled. “Captain,” he corrected. “Have you been cleaning in here?”

“No, sir. You asked me not to.”

 _Someone who actually listens when I speak,_ he thought ruefully. _How refreshing._ “Find Mr. Smee. Report back on the state of the _Jolly_ , would you?”

“Planning a journey, sir?”

Killian snapped the crate shut. “Aye. Keep quiet and you might get to tag along.”

“Why would I want ta do that?”

“Sense of adventure? See the world? Get away from whatever brought you here in the first place?” Killian recognized a man who was running from his past when he saw one. He didn’t know what Scarlett had done, and he didn’t ask. The young man performed his small duties well enough; Killian was starting to like him. He never overstepped in his need to be “helpful,” unlike all the other young men Snow foisted on him.

Will didn’t flinch. “I’ll just go check in with Mr. Smee. Sir.”

Emma appeared from the nursery. “Everything okay?”

“Aye, I was just looking for my spyglass.”

“Oh. Sorry.” To his bewilderment, she hurried back into the nursery then returned, his spyglass in her hand. “You were sleeping; I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to do some stargazing. It’s been a while; I’m out of practice.” If they were going to go to Arendelle, then she was determined to pull her own weight on the journey.

Killian crossed the room, covering her hand with his. “Everything I have belongs to you, love. No harm done.”

She smiled. It meant so much to her that he was willing to go on this journey with her. She stood up on her toes and kissed his lips sweetly. “I missed my teacher.”

“You could have woken me.”

“You’ve been working so hard, I wanted to let you sleep.”

“Spending time with you means more to me than sleep.”

She laid the glass aside and took his hand, guiding him to the balcony of their apartment. It was warm, a delicious smelling breeze blew in from the bay. Killian slid his arms around her waist; Emma leaned back against him. His hand and hook rested on her belly, possessively; Emma’s eyes closed as peace washed over her. She was having a good day, a good week, if she was being honest. Perhaps the knowledge that they were actually going to _do_ something had calmed the voice in her head.

“I’ve always admired this view,” Killian murmured in her ear.

“It is pretty.” The sun glinted off the bay, making it sparkle. The _Jolly Roger_ rested in her berth, majestic and stately. She could see the entrance to the wider ocean in the distance; it made her yearn for the feel of the wind in her hair and sway of the ship under her feet.

“I wasn’t talking about the view out the window, Princess.”

She bit her lip. “Yeah?”

“Oh yes.” He ducked his head, sliding his lips over her elegant throat. Emma rolled her hips enticingly, humming as he nipped at her flesh. They were due to be at another dinner with her parents and other incoming guests, but this was a far more enjoyable way to pass the time. Emma turned in his arms, drawing his mouth down to hers. The kiss was slow, thorough, sending sparks through her blood. “Here, my darling?”

She grabbed his hips, pulling him with her as she backed into the solid stone railing. “That a problem, pirate?”

“Naughty minx.” His hand slid down her spine, loosening the stays of her gown. He groaned softly as her hands slid down his torso, cupping his crotch and stroking. He hardened quickly, rocking into her touch. “I didn’t know you were such an exhibitionist, lass.”

“Screaming orgasms on the _Jolly_ with your crew right outside wasn’t a clue?” She had to release him long enough for him to yank the top of her gown off, sleeves and bodice falling to the floor. She shrugged down her shift, exposing her breasts to the air. Killian sucked a nipple between his lips; Emma bit back a moan. “Or…sucking you off as you sat on my father’s throne?” During her pregnancy, her libido remained intense; they christened many rooms in the castle. Those were among some of her favorite memories.

“Fucking hell, woman,” he cursed. He licked and suckled her nipples like a man starved, her words driving him crazy.

“Need you,” she breathed, plucking at the laces of his trousers. She slid her hand inside, curling it around his hot velvet shaft. “Need this.”

“You’ll get what you need,” he murmured. Killian shrugged off his vest then captured her mouth in a hungry kiss. “Get on your knees, Princess.”

Emma dropped quickly, her skirts cushioning her knees on the hard stone. She looked up at him through her lashes, her fingers playing over aching nipples. Each touch sent waves of need to her core. She spread her knees as wide as she could, making it harder to ease the ache inside her. That was reserved for Killian alone.

Gods, how debauched she looked! How beautiful! Killian ran his fingers through her hair, settling in the back of her head. Emma took the hint, leaning forward and licking his gorgeous cock from root to tip. She ran wet kisses over his turgid flesh, craving the needy moans that tumbled from his lips. She fondled his sac; it was heavy in her hand. She paid special attention to the sensitive spot just below the belled head; Killian tightened his grip on her hair instinctively. The pain sent a flush of heat to her core; she moaned around him. “More, lass,” he breathed. “Suck me down. Please.”

She ran her tongue over the throbbing vein, teasing him, until she took him into her mouth. She moved slowly, sucking lightly on the very tip of him, precum salty on her tongue. Killian fought to remain still, eager to give her free reign over his body. “That’s it, sweetheart. So good.”

Emma hollowed out her cheeks, licking firmly with every bob of her head. She recalled vividly the first time she did this for him, his gentle guidance, his needy chants of her name. It quickly became one of Emma’s favorite things, a treat for herself as well as him. It never failed to make her wet and hungry for him.

The wet sucking sounds she was making were too much. Killian pulled her off before he could climax, yanking her up roughly by the arm. Emma melted into his kiss, pawing at his clothes. “Naked. Now,” she demanded.

Oh, she was saucy today! It was late afternoon; the sun was _just_ starting to reach the tops of the trees. It would be some time before it set. Their apartment looked out over the water, but the palace gardens weren’t far away. Anyone down there would know exactly what they were up to. “I’m going to make you scream for me,” he growled. “Everyone will know.”

“God yes.” Her one concession was a silencing spell around the nursery; she didn’t want to wake their son. Spell cast, she fumbled with her skirts, desperate to get them off. The layers slid over her hips, landing in a heap. Killian laid her back on the nearby velvet covered settee, smirking at her coy smile.

“Enjoying yourself, lass?”

She slid her hand down her body, gliding her fingers through her swollen sex. Killian bit back a groan, his cock twitching in response. The way Emma owned her sexuality and her needs never failed to floor him. From the very beginning, she’d been surprising him, inviting him into her bed and begging him to deflower her. He considered himself the luckiest man in all the realms, astonished that this wonderful amazing creature loved and wanted him. “I like when you watch me.”

“Hmm, me too.” He yanked his shirt over his head, then dropped to his knees right at the end of the settee. “Show me.”

Emma nodded, arching slightly to give him a better view. She spread her legs wide, for once not at all shy about her body. The lustful look in her lover’s eyes made her bold; she wanted to take advantage of this feeling while it lasted. She cupped her breasts, kneading gently, her eyes locked on Killian’s. The blue was nearly swallowed by black; he looked like he wanted to devour her. Emma moaned, wetness flooding her sex. Instinctively, she rolled her hips, seeking friction.

Killian drank her in hungrily, his hand curling loosely around his cock. She loved watching him masterbate, almost much as he enjoyed watching _her._ Gods, she was perfect! He would forever be grateful for how well they suited, in and out of the bedroom. “Fuck, you smell delicious.”

She grinned. “Why don’t you come a little closer, Captain?”

He didn’t hesitate, quickly shucking his pants and boots. He straddled the end of the settee, lifting her legs to rest on his thighs. “Better?”

Emma shivered as his hand and hook slid up her inner thighs, her eyes drifting from his eyes to his cock and back. “Hmm, much.” She dipped her fingers between her legs, circling her clit, teasing her entrance. With Killian holding her legs apart at the knees, she could concentrate on her own pleasure, spurred on by his fierce gaze. Her eyes drifted shut, need coiled tighter in her belly. Abruptly, she slapped her hand over her sex, jerking as she cried out.

“Bloody hell, love. Again. _Again.”_

She repeated the action twice more, arousal leaking copiously onto the velvet. She pinched a nipple as she continued to spank her sex, Killian holding her firmly, pinning her to the couch. It was erotic and exciting; she sobbed as her first climax rocked her. Killian yanked her hand away hastily, his mouth descending on her still spasming sex. Emma screamed again, his lips and tongue almost too much on her over-sensitized flesh. Her fingers clawed at the top of the settee, hanging on for dear life as her pirate ate her out enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, bucking up off the couch, trying to ride his face. His scruff burned her delicate flesh, marking her as his.

“Love you so fucking much,” he growled, lifting her up by the hips. “My naughty girl.”

“Yes, yes, yours,” she panted, bracing her hands on his shoulders as he settled her in his lap. Together, they angled her hips just right; she keened loudly as she took him in. She was so wet that he bottomed out, every thick inch of him stretching her deliciously. “Oh fuck, _fuck_.”

“Hurt?”

“No, no. It’s so fucking _good_ , Killian.”

He held her ass, encouraging her to ride him slowly. “Tell me.”

She rose up on the balls of her feet, grinding over him sensuously. “Full,” she breathed. “I feel full. So deep inside me…it’s perfect.”

“Fucking hell.” He kissed her deeply, tangling her tongue with his. They remained that way for long minutes, locked together intimately, nothing more important than the pleasure they shared. Killian reached between them, unerringly seeking her clit. Emma gasped as he stroked her; she buried her head in his shoulder, riding him faster and faster, seeking climax. She trembled hard as she fell, walls spasming around her lover’s thick cock. Killian stilled her hips, his own climax dangerously close. But he didn’t want to come yet.

Carefully, he lifted her off him then rose. “I promised that you’d scream my name,” he said darkly, drinking in her panting form. Her skin was flushed, her pupils blown wide, her sex swollen and abused. She was so fucking gorgeous. When she reached for him, he was lost. He jerked her back into his arms, lifting her easily and carrying her to the thick stone railing.

Excitement and arousal slithered up her spine; gods, she couldn’t get enough of him. And here? Like this? This was perfection. Killian hitched her leg up onto the rail; he barely gave her a chance to breathe before he slammed home, his cock feeling so much _bigger_ like this. She screamed, clawing at the stone while her pirate used her for his pleasure. “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Killian groaned, his fingers digging into her hip. He’d leave bruises, but he knew all too well how much she liked that. He could feel how much she was _loving_ this, her swollen sex drenching his cock with every thrust. Gods, they should have done this long before now; his lover was stunning like this, bent over, whimpering as she took every inch of his cock into her warm willing body. Part of him hoped there were people down below, so everyone would know just who had the power to bring the kingdom’s beloved princess to her knees, until she was nothing more than a quivering mass of desire and need.

Emma arched her back, a whine clawing at her throat. She felt incredible, pleasure coiling in her belly, cool sea air sliding across her overheated skin. “Fuck, Killian,” she gasped. “So…fucking…good.”

Killian growled, sinking his fingers in her hair and yanking her head back. Emma yelped, a fresh wave of need gushing from her core. This was the man she craved, the man who needed this as much as she did. It filled her with pride that she still had this effect on him. “Love this quim,” he whispered in her ear. “Drenching my cock, you are. Feels so good around me. Could fuck you forever, lass.”

“Please,” she whimpered, time and reason falling away. All that mattered was _him._

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop. Never stop.”

He kissed the shell of her ear. “Never, my darling.” He slowed his hips just a bit, wanting to drag this out. Emma shuddered under him, her walls contracting instinctively around him. He moaned, his fingers digging into the soft globe of her ass. “Again, lass. So good.”

Emma bit her lip as she obeyed him, clenching her inner muscles around his thick shaft. “Killian, Killian, Killian,” she chanted, reaching back for his hand. She tangled her fingers with his, memorizing how this felt.

“Bloody hell.” Killian released her hand for a moment; Emma whimpered as he abruptly left her. Before she could ask when he was up to, she was rolled onto her side, one leg left dangling over the edge of the railing, the other curled around Killian’s hip. She cried out as he entered her again, clutching at his shoulders. Their mouths met in a sloppy kiss, Killian’s fingers seeking her clit. Emma gasped, hips rocking automatically when he found it. He knew exactly how to stroke her, bringing her to the edge in seconds. “Dirty girl,” he growled in her ear. “You want everyone to know who does this to you, don’t you? Who fucks you so, so good. Say it, Princess. Say my name.”

“Killian,” she breathed, bracing her hands on the stone. It was smooth, warm from her body heat. “Killian.”

“Louder. They can’t hear you.”

“Killian!” The one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever experienced gripped her, her body twitching as liquid gushed from her. Killian had to pull out briefly as she climaxed, his thumb rubbing her clit furiously. When the flow stopped, he pushed back in, her walls still fluttering, her body sapped. Emma whimpered, sagging into his chest. She clutched at him as he rode her, seeking his own pleasure. She _felt_ him pulse inside her, his warm seed filling her. He grunted something that sounded like her name, but Emma was too out of it to make it out. Aftershocks gripped her, his high feeding hers, wringing the last drops of pleasure from her.

Killian held her close; their heartbeats the only sound. Emma snuggled into him, burying her face in his shoulder. As their breathing returned to normal, he stroked her back, once again marveling at this incredible woman he married. “We should get you cleaned up.”

“Is that an invitation, Captain?”

“I didn’t know I needed to invite my wife to bathe with me.”

She smiled into his shoulder. “You don’t.” Killian tipped her head back; she hummed into his kiss. “That was amazing.”

“Aye.” He felt her shiver. “Cold?”

“Maybe a little.” It was warm, but the air coming in off the water was cool. Both were covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but it was drying slowly. Without another word, he scooped her up and carried her back into their bedroom. Once she was settled on the bed, he cleaned gently between her legs then handed her a robe.

“Rest while I see to our bath?”

“I think I might check on Liam.”

“Okay.” Killian waited into she was in the nursery before retrieving his pants and shirt. Once he was decent, he summoned his new valet to fetch them a bath.

Emma smiled as she looked down at her son. He was still asleep; her spell worked! Like the depression, her magic seemed to be on the upswing the last few days. Ever since they decided to go to Arendelle, she’d felt better. It probably wouldn’t last, but she would savor it as long as it did. They still hadn’t informed her parents. She knew they wouldn’t approve. There were a lot of preparations that needed to be made before they could leave; she used that to justify not telling them. But they needed to. Soon.

Confident that Liam would sleep for at least another hour, Emma returned to their suite. The steaming copper tub welcomed her. “How is he?”

“Still asleep. I figure we’ve got another hour before he gets hungry.”

Killian grinned, reaching out with his hook. It looped easily into the belt of her robe, allowing him to tug her close. She giggled happily, enjoying the solid feel of him against her. “I love you, Emma.”

She squeezed his waist. “I love you too, Killian.”

He touched her cheek. “Ready for another adventure?”

“With you? Always.”

He smiled. “I must admit, I’ve missed it.”

“Me too. When can we leave?”

“Soon, I think. Once the _Jolly_ is properly stocked, we can leave whenever you like.”

“My parents will try to stop us.”

“I’d like to see them try.”

She smiled. This was one of the things she adored the most about him. Killian always believed in her, no matter what. “We need to tell them soon.”

“Aye. We could tell them tonight, if you like.”

Emma buried her face in his chest. “I think I want you all to myself tonight.”

“Very well.”

 

* * *

 

“Emma! Emma!”

Emma whirled around, a grin on her face. “Tink! I wasn’t expecting you today!” The princess and the fairy hugged. “How are…things?” Emma asked cautiously.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Sure.” Liam was with her mother; Killian was down at the _Jolly._ The latest meeting of the Grand Alliance was in a few hours, so Emma had time. Talking to Tink would be more fun than getting poked by seamstresses. Besides, she could just use magic to alter her dresses. Emma led them into the library, casting a protective spell around them to ward off eavesdroppers.

“Your magic seems to be doing better?”

Emma shrugged. “Nothing strange has happened in the last few days.”

“That’s good.”

“I’ve been feeling good in general, so perhaps your theory is correct?”

Tink nodded. She waved her hand; a thick dusty book appeared on the nearby desk. “I’ve been doing some research, trying to find out anything I could about…”

“People like me?”

“Yeah. I had to dig deep into Blue’s archive, but it seems like there have been other saviors. They seem to appear when the forces of darkness threaten to overwhelm the world.”

“Oh. That’s…comforting, I guess? In a weird way.” Her status as this supposed savior never sat well with her; it wasn’t something she asked for. She didn’t even want it. She didn’t want to be responsible for the fate of the whole world. It was too much.

Tink reached out and covered Emma’s hand with hers. “I know it feels lonely, Emma. But I promise you, I will be there whenever you need me.”

“Because Blue told you to.”

“Because I’m your friend,” Tink corrected. “Don’t worry about those other saviors. You worry about that adorable son of yours. And his father, okay?”

“Okay. Does this book explain why my magic is acting so weird?”

“I found a few things that could be helpful. Your power is tied strongly to your emotions; there’s a reason why it took so long to manifest. I have some exercises here that I think can help. Do we have some time?”

“Sure. Fire away.”

They practiced. Emma felt like she was in a time warp, learning how to use her magic all over again. Only this time Killian wasn’t there to encourage her. The book contained some complex spells; most of them were in languages Emma didn’t speak or understand. She grew more and more frustrated; was this what the rest of her life would be? Learning arcane magic to protect the people she loved from a monster? There didn’t seem to be anything that would actually help her against the Dark One. They had yet to understand how such a creature was made, let alone how to defeat him.

Emma didn’t want to admit it, but she was afraid. Liam was eight months old; that was eight months where Rumplestiltskin could have attacked her. It was why her parents were so against Emma leaving the protection of the castle. Where was he? Why hadn’t he appeared at the gate the moment she gave birth? While Emma was grateful, it was deeply worrying. Were they doing the right thing? Emma desperately wanted to meet the Queen of Arendelle, meet someone like _her_ , but was she making them a target?

 _You’re a target no matter what,_ she reminded herself. _Might as well live your life._

“Emma? Something wrong?”

She sighed. “Nothing.” When Tink looked skeptical, she went on. “Killian and I are leaving.”

“Leaving? When? Where?”

“We’re not quite sure, but soon.” She explained their conversation with Kristoff and her idea about going to Arendelle. “I want to meet someone like me,” she explained. “Present company excepted.” It occurred to her late that Tink might be offended.

“Hey, I get it.” Tink’s wings shimmered in the light. “Being a fairy isn’t the same.”

“Am I doing the right thing?”

“I think only you can answer that. What does Killian think?”

“He supports me. He always does.” She smiled, wishing he was there right now. “We both hate being cooped up. I know Blue and my parents and everyone else mean well, but I can’t just stay here and wait for the Dark One to attack. Does that make sense?”

Tink looked thoughtful, nodding slowly. “It does. If you’re determined, then I’m behind you.”

“Thanks, Tink.”

“I do have a question though.”

“Shoot.”

“What about Liam? Will you take him with you?”

“He’s still breastfeeding, so we’ll have to. Killian’s down at the _Jolly_ right now, getting it ready for us.”

“Won’t you need help? No offense, but a ship’s crew doesn’t seem ideal to looking after an infant.”

Emma hadn’t thought of that. The captain’s quarters were already cramped; she’d just assumed they’d have his cradle there. It wasn’t conducive to privacy, but it was how they’d lived during the first couple months of Liam’s life. “Maybe you could come with us?”

“Me?”

“Sure. Aren’t you like my fairy godmother or something? You could be Liam’s too!”

Tink frowned. “It’s doesn’t work like that, Emma,” she said sadly. “I would love nothing more, you must understand that. Liam is a wonderful child. But I can’t look after him. He would need a fairy godmother of his own.”

“But why?”

“It’s a fairy thing. When a fairy chooses someone to look after and protect, they are committing to that person. For life. If I were to take on Liam as my charge, my loyalties would be torn. You and your son are both in danger from Rumplestiltskin. It’s too much to ask of one fairy. Even me. I say this as your friend, Emma. I am so honored that you would trust me to look after your son. But if you truly want him to have his own fairy godmother, then it can’t be me.”

Emma glanced away. “I didn’t realize it was so…involved. You’re really my protector? For life?”

Tink nodded. “I am. I’m sorry I didn’t explain all this sooner; it was nice, just being your friend.”

“You’re still my friend, Tinkerbell. None of this magic stuff would make sense without you. I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s been my pleasure.” Tink lowered her voice. “I’ve heard horror stories, Emma. Fairies who became corrupted and outright dangerous under the influence and pressure of their charges. We’re not much different from people. It’s probably why Blue is so uptight about the rules.” Tinkerbell suspected there were other reasons, but she didn’t want to worry Emma unnecessarily.

“Rules you flout all the time,” Emma commented with a wry grin.

Tinkerbell shrugged. “Just the ridiculous ones.”

“Uh huh.” She started to ask if there was anyone Tink had in mind for Liam’s fairy godmother when the door opened. Killian strode through, his face lighting up when he saw Emma.

“There you are.”

Emma smiled as he leaned down to kiss her. She wasn’t shy about showing affection in front of Tink. Tink was the one who figured that Emma’s magic was fueled by True Love. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just telling Tink about our trip.”

Killian cocked a brow. He was mildly surprised she was willing to talk about it with the fairy, but Tinkerbelle was their friend. If they couldn’t trust Tink, who could they trust? “And what was her verdict?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea. Emma and I were just discussing the logistics.”

“Logistics? I thought we had that well in hand?”

Emma nodded toward the still open door, shutting it with a wave of her hand. “Tinkerbell thinks it’s a good idea for Liam to get a fairy godmother. To help out.”

“Why can’t she just come with us?”

Emma explained the whole fairy godmother gig to him; he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I hadn’t realized that.” He looked seriously at Tink. “That’s quite a responsibility, lass.”

Tink let the comment pass; being Emma’s fairy godmother was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She loved Emma dearly as her friend. “Liam doesn’t _need_ one; I just thought it would be a good idea to have someone to help.”

“And he might have magic like Emma.” Liam hadn’t shown any signs…yet. But Emma’s magic hadn’t manifested until she was much older. Like his mother, Liam was born of True Love. That, for Killian, tipped the scales. If there was any chance of his son possessing magic, then he needed a magical mentor, just like Emma.

Tink nodded. “Yes, I think that’s likely.”

Emma suppressed a shiver. The idea of her son being burdened with powers horrified her. Would it make him hunted, like her? Would people be afraid of him? Emma herself still wasn’t sure about her powers; how could she parent a child with magic?

Killian rubbed her arm. “Emma, love, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry, I just…I don’t want Liam to have magic,” she said quietly.

“I don’t think we’ve much of a choice, love. He’s too much like his mother.” Killian offered her an encouraging smile. “And I wouldn’t want either of you to be anything different.”

Tears stung her eyes. “How can you say that? After all the trouble it’s caused?” Her magic was why the Dark One was after them. It was something that kept her up at night. It was the reason her parents and everyone else wanted to keep them caged in the castle. From her perspective, it ruined everything.

Killian gently tipped her chin up; the belief and love in his blue eyes never failed to move her. Gods, she was so lucky. “Emma, I love _everything_ about you. Magic or no. Princess or no. The moment I saw you, my world changed. I’ll keep telling you until you believe me. There is nothing more important to me than you and our son, yeah? I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Emma closed her eyes as he pulled her into his arms, his embrace a haven against the emotions that swirled within her. She hated that she could still feel like this. One moment she was fine, the next she was filled with self-loathing and fear. Rosalind told her it would take time for her to find balance, but right now, it wasn’t much of a comfort.

Killian placed a kiss right at her hairline; his heart broke for her. He knew she despised these mood swings; she hated to seem weak. But she was so strong. At times like these, he simply needed to remind her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

Emma soaked him in, drawing strength from his warmth. She didn’t know what she would do without him. “What happens now?”

“Well, we’ve got a meeting to attend shortly. Perhaps Tink could look after the lad?”

Tink nodded. “Sure.” Spending time with little Liam would give her a chance to consider which of her sisters would be a good fit for him. It was the least she could do for her friend.

 

* * *

 

Emma smoothed down the creases in her skirt. Will’s friend Alice had done a wonderful job; the gown was a deep blue, trimmed with a soft violet, as befitted a princess. Her neck and shoulders were exposed, her golden hair coiled in an elegant knot. She really loved it, which mildly surprised her. It wasn’t that long ago that she would have dreaded getting dressed up like this. But with Killian at her side, it wasn’t so bad.

As if by magic, her husband appeared behind her. “Gorgeous.”

She offered him a half smile in the mirror. “I think your valet is trying to stay in your good graces. His friend Alice made this.”

Killian huffed. “I hate to admit it, but he’s not so bad. Doesn’t hover like the others.”

“Why, Captain Jones, you might just be getting the hang of this prince thing.”

He pretended to scowl. “I hate to disappoint you, lass, but I’ll never be a prince.”

She turned, staring up at him through her lashes. “Good, because I didn’t marry a prince.” She stood up on her toes and brushed her lips over his. His arms snaked around her waist, holding her against him. She hummed, curling her fingers around his necklace as he deepened the kiss. The way his tongue stroked hers was positively sinful; the world shrank to this moment. The layers of her gown muted the feel of him, his hand on the small of her back, his hook against her ass. “Hmm, there’s my pirate.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t aware that I was missing.”

“You weren’t. I just…I love that all this hasn’t changed who you are. You’re still the man I fell in love with.” There was never a point that she was afraid of him. Perhaps she should have been. She’d heard plenty about his past; she’d seen first hand his life as a pirate. He was capable of violence, especially if she was the one threatened. Yet she’d discovered things about herself as well. They were remarkably similar. They fought side by side. She would do anything to defend him and their son, without hesitation.

“And you are still the incredible woman I fell in love with, Emma. I see you struggle, and it destroys me. I’m so sorry, my love.”

“I was due for a bad day, I think,” she replied softly. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just wish I could do more.”

“You could kiss me again.”

“As you wish.” He backed her into the wall, kissing her exactly the way she imagined. Emma ran her hands down his back, not caring how any of this would muss her gown. She panted as his lips slid over her jaw and down her throat. Heat began to pool in her belly; her fingers slid over his leather pants, squeezing his firm ass. Killian groaned into her neck, instinctively thrust against her. “Naughty minx.”

“Complaining?”

“Fuck no.” He sucked hard on her skin, right where neck met shoulder. His lips and teeth nipped and bit at her skin, marking her. Her knees weakened under his onslaught; Killian used his hips to pin her more firmly between his body and the wall. “The things you do to me, love…”

“Show me,” she panted, thrusting back. “Send me out there with your seed sliding between my legs.”

“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “You’re playing with fire, love.”

“Don’t care. Do it. Do it now.” She reached between them, yanking hard on the laces of his pants. He groaned as she freed his cock, stroking him to full hardness. Once he was on the edge, she helped him push her skirts up and her legs around his waist. Emma clung to him as he filled her with one long stroke, the penetration burning as he stretched her. Emma cried out in pleasure, her skirts cushioning her ass as he rode her hard and fast. “Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed, dragging his mouth back to hers.

Killian was nearly blind with need, Emma’s request feeding directly into his pirate’s instincts. Which was probably her plan all along, the minx. She reveled in his possessive need for her, the same need she felt for him. “Touch yourself,” he growled. “Wanna feel you come.”

She held up her skirt with one hand, the other seeking her clit. A couple of short flicks had her trembling, Killian’s hips pounding deeply into hers. They climaxed at nearly the same moment, stars popping behind Emma’s eyes. Killian’s guttural groan went straight to her clit, sending waves of aftershocks through her as he filled her. “Fuck.”              

Killian let her down when her weight was too much; Emma held his head against her chest. They were both panting, tired but exhilarated. “Thank you,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

“Feel better?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Killian raised his head. “Anything for you, love.” He kissed the mark on her neck, angry and red. “I’m afraid I’ve made a mess of you though.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Perhaps I mind.” They were going to be spending the evening with royalty; he didn’t want to embarrass her.

“Hey, I could never be ashamed of you,” she said, cupping his cheeks. “I made my choice. I will _always_ choose you. I like being yours, okay?”

He touched the angry mark on her neck. “I like it too. More than I should.”

“None of that now. I belong to you. _You_ belong to me, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would this make you feel better?” She snapped her fingers, a triple string of pearls wrapping around her throat. It didn’t cover the mark completely, but she didn’t want it to.

The longest length of pearls looped down over her cleavage, which was already threatening to spill out of her gown. That was one aspect of motherhood he was definitely still enjoying. He traced the necklace with his fingers; Emma shivered under his touch. “Now you’re just taunting me.”

“You can punish me later.”

“I just might.” He forced himself to back up, giving her room to rearrange her gown. She used magic to relax wrinkles in the fabric and redo her slightly mussed hair. Her eyes still held the brightness of post-orgasmic pleasure, which filled him with pride. His own outfit was simpler, a variation of the clothes made for him for their very first ball together. Only this time his vest was a deep blue to match her gown. “Ready, love?”

“As I’ll ever be.” They checked on Liam one last time; Tinkerbell quickly shooed them away. She seemed to be enjoying herself; Emma felt a pang, wishing that her friend could be Liam’s fairy godmother. She wasn’t sure how she felt about welcoming a complete stranger into their world. She trusted Tinkerbelle.

She couldn’t worry about it now. She had a whole other gauntlet to run.

The so-called Grand Alliance had been formed nearly a year ago, just before Emma and Killian’s second wedding. In theory, it was supposed to be a bulwark against the Dark One, a demon who took pleasure tormenting innocents with his “deals.” His attack on Emma convinced nearly everyone that he must be stopped; a subsequent attempt on Killian convinced the rest. In the time since then, there had been a lot of _talking_ but not any real _doing._ It was obvious that magic was their best weapon, but no one understood _which_ magic. Emma was the apparent Savior, but her well-meaning parents loathed letting her outside the safety of the castle.

The entire thing had ground to a stalemate.

Killian squeezed Emma’s hand. “We don’t have to do this,” he whispered.

Emma shook her head. “Yes, we do. Half of them are still a little afraid of me, I think.” Her mother’s friend, Aurora, had been particularly upset about Emma’s magic. Emma wasn’t the only child born of True Love; why did she get powers? No one knew, not even Blue. There was a prophecy, but it didn’t mention Emma by name. It might have been any one.

“Sods,” Killian muttered under his breath. Anyone who was afraid of Emma was a fool as far as he was concerned. She was one of the kindest, most genuine people he’d ever known. The idea that she could use her power for ill was ridiculous.

“Be nice,” she whispered. They needed this evening to go well. Perhaps if her parents were preoccupied with the Alliance, they wouldn’t raise a fuss about them leaving for Arendelle.

“I will, if they will,” he whispered back.

The herald announced them. “Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Emma, and Captain Killian Jones.” No royal title for him. Good.

Every gaze turned to them as they slowly descended the stairs. Killian had to admit he rather enjoyed the envious looks he saw a few young men shoot his way. Emma was stunning as always, her cheeks still tinged with a hint of pink from their earlier activities. Then he spotted Sandorne and scowled. That bastard was staring at Emma. Again. He’d spotted the Duke lurking more and more; he hadn’t mentioned it to Emma. He trusted her. Besides, she had enough to deal with.

“Emma! Killian!” Snow hurried over, looking very beautiful in lilac. “Is everything alright?”

Emma flushed, remembering exactly why they were late. “Fine, Mother. We just lost track of time.” Which wasn’t strictly untrue. It was difficult to care about much when Killian made her feel so good.

“Your father’s been looking for you.”

“Right. Sorry.” Still arm in arm, Emma and Killian quickly found the King; David was speaking quietly with Philip and Sandorne. Emma groaned inwardly. She still hadn’t forgiven the Duke for his “solution” to the Dark One problem. She managed to avoid him in the days since; she didn’t trust herself not to say something rash.

Beside her, Killian tensed. “Love?”

“It’s fine.”

Her father interrupted before Killian could maneuver them away. Let the King come to them. “Emma, Killian,” David said.

“Hello, Papa,” Emma replied. “Philip, Duke.”

“Your Highness.” Sandorne bowed slightly, his eyes flickering to the hint of the mark on her throat. Killian suppressed a grin. _That’s right, she’s mine._ “Captain.”

Philip seemed oblivious to the tension. “Emma, how good to see you again.” He held out his hand for Killian. “Captain.”

Killian released Emma and shook the other king’s hand. “Your Majesty.”

“Philip, please. After what happened the last time we were here, I think the formalities are overrated.” The last few meetings of the Alliance, Aurora and Philip sent representatives; Emma wondered why. It wasn’t their fault. Rumplestiltskin used Mulan to get to them. That was what the Dark One did.

“Is Aurora here?” Emma asked.

“Yes. She thought it was time.”

Emma nodded. “And Mulan?” She didn’t hate the other woman. There was no point. Killian was safe; that was what mattered.

Philip glanced away. “It’s been…difficult. Aurora feels responsible. She had no idea Mulan felt…that way. Neither did I. She’s been my friend for a long time. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her.”

“You did what you had to,” David said.

“Tell Aurora that.” Philip shook off sadness. “We want to help. That monster needs to be ended.”

“Agreed, mate.”

Emma spotted Sandorne attempt to edge away, which was curious. She didn’t like him; she never had. Still, he was one of her parents’ most trusted councilors. It might be a good idea to make peace with him. “Urgent business, Duke?”

He glanced at Killian before he spoke. “Apologies, Your Highness.”

“I think we should talk, if that’s alright?”

“I am at your disposal.”

She squeezed Killian’s hand before she let go; his gaze made her shiver. She arched a brow at him, but he nodded all the same. She led Sandorne away from the others, heading for a quiet corner. “First, let me apologize, Duke. My behavior was uncalled for.”

Sandorne looked surprised. “As was mine, Your Highness. I am unattached, as you know. I was not as…diplomatic as I should have been. Please accept my sincere apologies.”

Emma blinked. She hadn’t expected that. “Apology accepted. This business with the Dark One has placed stress on all of us.”

“Still, it was uncouth of me. And unchivalrous. I am mortified that I may have caused you distress.”

Emma wasn’t completely sure she bought that; Killian had threatened Sandorne moments after he upset her. She chose to take the high road. “As it happens, I have been unwell. That may have been a factor in my reaction.”

“Unwell? Is it serious?”

“No, it’s…well, it’s something women endure sometimes after giving birth. I’ve been struggling with it for some time without realizing it. But I am much better now. My choice is the same though. I am quite content with my family as it is. Surely you agree that ending the threat of the Dark One should be our priority?”

“Yes, but my goal is your safety. Your parents are not as young as they once were. If something should happen to you or the prince…I fear the kingdom may be thrown into chaos.”

“There is no safe place. Not from the Dark One. I will not stand by and wait for him to come after me and mine. I can’t.”

Sandorne’s pleasant mask faltered. “You are not the girl I once knew.” To drive his point home, his gaze dropped to the mark on her neck, peaking out under the pearls. Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. _He’s jealous of Killian,_ she realized.

Her next words were hard. “No. I am a wife, a mother and a pirate, Your Grace. I will do whatever I have to protect my family. I will not hide for you or anyone else. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, Your Highness.”

Emma didn’t wait. She pushed past the chastened Duke and searched for her husband. She found him deep in conversation with Eric. “Hello, love.”

She slipped her arm around him, smiling as he tucked her into his side. “Hey.”

Eric nodded to Killian. “I’ll leave you to your beautiful wife, Killian.”

To her utter delight, Killian pulled her close, slanting his lips over hers. She kissed him back enthusiastically, hoping Sandorne got an eyeful. “Killian?” Emma asked, slightly breathless.

“I can’t kiss my wife?”

“Oh, you can. In fact, I think you should kiss her again.” He did so, boldly sliding his tongue into her mouth. Many of the guests would be scandalized, but she didn’t care. When the kiss broke, she rested her head on his chest. “Have fun catching up with Eric?”

He nodded, his fingers stroking the back of her neck. “Aye.”

“Talk about anything interesting?” She raised her head, using his hook to guide them to one of the small couches along the wall. Once seated, she curled into his side, so she could hear him over the music playing.

“He’s heard many rumors about the Dark One, as it happens. Every time he’s sent someone to chase them down, there’s nothing but smoke. But I know that demon’s out there.”

Emma nodded. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to attack when Liam was born.”

“As am I. It still terrifies me,” he admitted.

Emma cupped his cheek, his scruff pricking her skin. “Nice to know I’m not alone,” she said gently.

His half smile warmed her heart. “You’re never alone, my love. Not ever.”

Some of the things she’d seen in her nightmares…losing him frightened her more than she wanted to admit. But if she couldn’t be honest with her True Love then what was the point? “Neither are you. We’re a team, just as we’ve always been.”

“Too right.” He didn’t stop her from pulling him into a kiss, momentarily wishing they were somewhere else. They were in no rush, letting the rest of the world fall away in the sweetness of their lips. Emma didn’t care what anyone else thought of her. She loved her pirate and wanted everyone to know he was hers. “Naughty lass,” he whispered.

“Don’t you forget it.” She smiled his favorite sultry grin, then slipped her hand into his. “Let’s get the rest of this evening over with.”

There was a formal feast to open the festivities; fortunately, Emma and Killian were seated with Eric and Ariel. For once, Emma was grateful to her mother. She had to admit it was nice, eating with people who didn’t think she was insane for marrying a pirate. Ariel was genuinely kind; she’d arranged the island they spent their honeymoon on.

“Thank you again for the island, Ariel. We had a wonderful time.”

“You’re welcome. Papa asked me to tell you that you and Killian are welcome, anytime. He’ll keep you safe.”

“We wouldn’t want to intrude.” That island belonged to them; Eric gifted it to Ariel upon their marriage, so she would have a place where she could visit her family.

“Nonsense, Emma. It’s the least we can do.”

“It must be hard, tied to one place,” Eric observed.

Emma glanced toward her parents then nodded. “We took a short cruise a few days ago. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

“Liam had the time of his life,” Killian said proudly. “He’ll be a natural.”

Emma smiled fondly. Killian was so cute when he spoke of their son. He was such a wonderful father, just as she knew he would. “We can’t wait to take him again.”

“Any plans?”

Killian shrugged. “Perhaps. Neither of us are good at waiting.”

Ariel looked wistful and a bit sad. Emma remembered belatedly that she and Eric didn’t have any children of their own. Emma had never asked why. She decided to change the subject.

After the feast, the key players in the alliance retired to the Council room. They arranged themselves around the circular table; more than one pair of eyes focused on Emma. She refused to be cowed, holding her head up. She refused to apologize for who she was or who she loved.

David called the meeting to order. “Thank you all for coming. Snow and I are grateful to see so many friends make the trip personally. Your support for this alliance is appreciated.”

“Is there any news?” someone asked.

They went around the table, each representative giving a report. As Killian suspected, it was more of the same. Eric’s was the most substantial, but even that didn’t present them with any solid leads.

“We can’t just sit around waiting for the Dark One to slither out of his hole,” Killian said at last. “That’s not doing anyone any good.”

“We should avoid him until we have an effective weapon,” someone else said.

“I’m the Savior,” Emma cut in. “Rumplestiltskin is my responsibility.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be this Savior,” Aurora said.

Emma sighed. “I don’t. But it’s the hand I’ve been dealt. If I can stop him, I will. But I need to know what I’m fighting. There has to be something out there that can help. Where did the Dark One come from? We know Rumplestiltskin isn’t the first. There are records of the Dark One going back centuries. How did such a malevolent force come to be? These are the questions that need to be answered before we find him.” Otherwise, she didn’t stand a chance.

Killian folded her hand into his as she resumed her seat. He was so proud of her. This wasn’t the fate she wanted, but she was more than equal to it.

“What about the fairies? Can’t they help?”

Blue appeared in a flash, hovering over the center of the round table. “Yes?”

“Blue,” Snow said, just as surprised as anyone else. “This is a surprise.”

“I thought I was summoned?”

“Not as such, but thank you for coming,” Emma said. She’d been hoping to confront the fairy for some time. Blue smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Emma refused to be intimidated. Blue had been acting sketchy for some time, but she hadn’t said anything to her parents or their allies. The only one who knew of her frustrations were Killian and Tinkerbelle. “We were wondering if there was any progress in the search for exactly how I’m supposed to defeat the Dark One.”

“I’ve been supervising the search personally,” Blue replied, her voice almost sugary sweet. “But there are many legends about the Dark One’s powers and origins. You must appreciate how difficult it is to separate fact from fiction.”

“It seems to me that fact can be thin when it comes to magic,” Killian muttered.

“All the more reason to take our time. The Dark One is cunning and ruthless.”

“You say that like I _don’t_ know what he’s capable of,” Emma shot back. “He tried to kill me for my power. He used someone else to try and murder my husband. Or have you forgotten all that?”

Blue frowned. “Of course I haven’t.”

“Emma,” Snow chided gently. “Blue’s only trying to help.”

“Is she?” Emma demanded. “Then why has she been preventing Tinkerbelle from receiving my letters? I needed her and all I got was silence. For days.”

“That’s a serious accusation,” her father said, surprised.

“Ask Tinkerbelle. She’ll tell you. I’ve had to put a spell on them so only Tink could open them.”

“Blue?”

“I don’t know what happened, but I promise I will find out.”

“We’re grateful for all your help,” Snow said, smiling as if that were the end of it. Emma struggled not to grind her teeth in frustration. Blue had been too close to her parents for too long. She’d kept Emma’s powers a secret, but they’d accepted her reasoning without too much protest. They just couldn’t see what Emma saw.

Discussion moved on to other topics. Emma sat heavily, sagging in her chair. Killian reached over and rubbed her shoulders. How long would her parents treat her like a child? They were happy enough to see her married (although, he knew he was not the groom they’d imagined) and become a mother, but in every other way, they still treated her like she didn’t know her own mind. It only got worse the longer they stayed here.

Emma was slowly suffocating, and it was killing him.

“Why won’t they listen?” Emma huffed when they returned to their suite.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. They’ve clearly trusted her for a long time.”

“And I was accusing her of mail going awry,” she sighed. “But you think it’s suspicious too, right?”

He nodded. “Aye, I do. There’s always been something about her I’ve never quite trusted.”

Emma wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks.”

He kissed the crown of her head. “Of course.” He led them into the nursery; seeing Liam always calmed her. Tinkerbelle had left; Greta was watching the crawling prince. Emma ducked down and scooped him up; Liam broke out in happy giggles. Greta slipped away with a fond smile, leaving the little family alone. Neither cared about the mess to their fine clothes as they played with their son, allowing their earlier cares fall away. It wasn’t until Liam was fed and tucked into bed that Emma considered things once more.

“What are we going to do?”

“Exactly what we planned. The _Jolly’s_ almost ready. I think say we can set sail by the end of the week.”

“What about Liam? What do you think about him having his own fairy godmother?”

“I think it’s a good idea. He’s going to be extraordinary, just like his mother.”

“I still don’t know how I feel about it.”

Killian took her brush from her and began to run it through her long tresses. “It’s natural to worry over your child, love.”

“You don’t.”

“Of course I do. I worry about the sort of man he’ll be. I worry that I will be a disappointment, just like my father.”

Emma stared at him in the mirror, silently cursing herself for her myopia. Killian had spoken of this before—rarely—but he seemed so confident most of the time. It seemed they both had insecurities to work through. “You’re a wonderful father, Killian.”

“Now. Things will be more difficult once he’s walking and talking and thinking for himself.”

She stopped his hand, turning on her little bench. “He’s going to worship you. He already does.” Liam lit up whenever he saw Killian, always eager to get his attention. Emma loved to watch them together, her boys.

“He shouldn’t. I’m not exactly a…good man, love.”

She threaded their fingers together. “Maybe, maybe not. But I love you exactly like this.” With her other hand, she curled her fingers around his necklace and tugged him down to her. Their lips brushed, softly at first, as if relearning each other. Emma hummed as Killian leaned closer, pressing her back into the vanity. His knee forced hers wide apart, her shift tearing slightly.

“Another victim for the seamstress,” Killian quipped, his hand sliding into the collar of the thin garment. Emma arched into his touch, shivering as his thumb grazed her nipple.

“Oh,” she breathed, pulling him closer. “Too bad.”

Killian yanked her up with a yelp, maneuvering them so he sat on the bench and Emma straddled his lap. His hook tore the shift into shreds, baring her creamy flesh. “No saving it.”

A flush of heat warmed her. “Hell no.” Their mouths met in a heated kiss; Emma’s fingers fumbled with his shirt and vest. He allowed her free reign with his body, her lips sliding down his throat and over his collar. He’d watched her with Sandorne earlier, out of the corner of his eye; how galling it would have been for him if he knew that Emma was branded with Killian’s seed under her pretty gown. She’d told him that Sandorne once fancied marrying her himself, but she wouldn’t have him. Seeing her with a pirate must have grated on the ponce. But he could never make Emma feel like this. She needed the fire and passion Killian brought out in her; they both needed it like they needed air.

Emma coaxed his hand between her thighs, a little keen escaping as he lightly fingered her clit. “Hmm, there’s my naughty princess.”

She rolled her hips against his touch, drowning in the heat she saw in his eyes. “Oh my gods.”

“Did you enjoy yourself, sweet? Did you see all the men watching you? Following you? You’re beautiful, bloody gorgeous.”

“But I’m _yours_ ,” she breathed, trying to angle her hips to take his fingers inside her.

“Sandorne couldn’t stop staring all through the feast,” he added as if she hadn’t spoken. “He wants you.”

So, Killian noticed that too. She wasn’t surprised. In fact, it only added to the fire burning within her. “Never,” she swore, her breath hitching as she finally got what she wanted. Emma leaned back, bracing herself on the vanity, wantonly riding his fingers. “I need you. I want you.”

Killian watched her for long moments, drinking in the faint flush of her skin, the gentle bouncing of her breasts. “Is that why you wanted me to mark you? Claim you as mine?”

She nodded hard. “Yes! I only want to be yours.”

Killian cursed, his hooked arm drawing her in. His lips wrapped around a nipple and sucked firmly. Emma keened, shuddering, one hand flying into his hair. She climaxed hard, her walls fluttering around his fingers. Killian brought her down slowly, his mouth teasing her nipples until she was trembling. “Killian…fuck.”

“Soon, lass.” He helped her down, suppressing a groan as she ran her hand over his leather clad thighs. Her eyes were filled with hazy lust, locked with his as she expertly worked him. She stroked him through his pants, slowly loosening the laces. She was so stunning there on the floor, naked, hair mussed, lips kiss swollen, eyes bright. He gently cupped her cheek as she took him into her hand, stroking firmly. He stroked her lips with his thumb; Emma smirked just before she sucked his thumb into her mouth. He groaned, mesmerized by her.

Wetness flooded her core as she toyed with him. With her free hand, she began to touch herself, palming her breast, sliding her hand between her thighs. Killian couldn’t take his eyes off her. Emma gave him a show, stroking her swollen clit, moaning around his thumb. She released him with a soft pop, lunging forward to wrap her lips around his gorgeous cock. Killian let out a yelp, his hand tightening into her golden tresses. Her warm wet mouth was heavenly, soft chants of her name tumbled from his lips. Emma continued to work toward her own pleasure, shoving two fingers inside to ride while she worshiped her lover’s cock.

“Fucking hell, lass,” he gasped. He didn’t want her to stop, but he didn’t want to forgo her sweet quim. She’d tormented him all evening in that gown; he needed her. Abruptly, he lifted her off him, raising her up to crush his mouth to hers. She kissed him back with equal fervor. “Need you.”

“God yes,” she panted. He’d robbed her of her climax; she was desperate for him. He whirled her around, coaxing her to into his lap, facing away from him. Emma’s breathing hitched as she spotted herself in the mirror. Killian’s hand and hook stroked her skin, his lips peppered her back with kisses.

“My gorgeous princess,” he murmured. He could almost feel her faint trepidation, the tension that had nothing to do with desire. He ran his lips down her spine, one hand flicking her nipple, his hook sliding over her belly.

Emma’s eyes fell shut; Killian’s touch was both erotic and soothing. He never stopped touching her, coaxing her closer until she was leaning back against him. “Open your eyes,” he murmured softly. “For me.”

She obeyed reluctantly, her gaze locking with his in the mirror. She was perched somewhat precariously in his lap, but she trusted him implicitly. Together they angled her hips, her lips opening in a soft O as he entered her. He felt larger than usual like this, his cock stroking her walls perfectly. “Oh my god.”

“See?” he growled, rocking his hips into hers. “You’re stunning.”

She reached back, sinking her fingers in his hair, hanging on as she rode him. Killian’s hand splayed over her belly, holding her steady. She looked thoroughly debauched, skin flushed, eyes bright, hair a mess. And Killian thought she was beautiful. Her eyes dropped to where they were joined, his red swollen cock glistening with her arousal as she moved over him. “Killian… _gods.”_

“Take what you need, sweet. Let me watch you.”

She nodded, leaning forward and bracing her hands on the vanity. She used the leverage to ride him with long firm stokes, the angle rubbing her just right. She whimpered with need, her climax coiling tighter and tighter in her belly. Deft fingers slid between her legs, picking up moisture and gliding between her cheeks. He teased her rear entrance, the pressure maddening.

“Come for me, sweet,” he murmured, his finger pushing in to the first knuckle. “Need to feel you.”

She nodded hard, her climax washing over her in a rush. She bit back her scream at the last second, recalling that their son was in the next room. Her body burned white hot, pleasure sparking every nerve. Killian rode her until he followed her in bliss, grunting her name.

Killian caught her before she could fall, cradling her against his chest. He kissed her damp brow, holding her as she calmed down. Emma deserved so much happiness; he would do everything he could to bring her joy and take them from their troubles.

Emma breathed in the heady scent of Killian and sex; she was sleepy, but she didn’t want to sleep. This was a perfect bubble; she wanted to stay here. She made no protest as Killian carried her to bed, relaxing as he cleaned her up and slid into the bed beside her. She slipped into his arms, burrowing her face in his chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“Everything?”

He chuckled softly. “That’s never necessary, love.”

“But it is. You do so much for me; I can’t see what you get out of it.”

“Your happiness is all I could ever need or want. I’d say that’s quite enough.”

“It’s not enough for me. This life isn’t enough for me.” She kissed his chest. “We need to tell them. Tomorrow. I don’t care what they say; we can’t stay here.”

Killian nodded. “Agreed. The _Jolly_ is nearly ready. It’s pointless to delay any longer.”

“This whole charade accomplished nothing,” she said sadly.

Killian refused to sugarcoat it. “Aye.”

“We need to see Tink too. I want to find Liam’s fairy godmother as soon as possible.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“I don’t like it, but what else can we do? If he’s like…me, then we have to do everything we can for him. Including asking for help.”

Killian kissed her hairline. “I’m very proud of you, my love.”

She huffed. “We’ll see.”


End file.
